


West and Rust

by LEArtemis



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Drama, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-06-09 21:31:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 37,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19484434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LEArtemis/pseuds/LEArtemis
Summary: Rafael's gone.  He left leaving nothing but broken hearts, broken promises, and an ache so deep that has become too great to bear.  Now, they've tried to replace him with this insufferable woman.  A woman that slowly but surely creeps her way through the cracks that Sonny's failed to patch up after Rafael's departure.





	1. New Beginnings

**_New Beginnings_ **

Everything changes.

Everything continued to change.

Rafael was gone after that brutal confrontation in front of his peers, and though exonerated, he still carried the burden of the weight baby Drew had left behind. And, his guilt would continue until he could let it all go. Nobody blamed him for it. Not his mother. Not Olivia. Not Amanda. Not Fin. Definitely not Sonny, but there was something Sonny blamed him for: leaving him. For having left without saying goodbye. For having only left a note atop the kitchen counter with the only palpable thing Sonny had to remember him by now: a pocket square; Sonny’s favorite pocket square.

That he blamed him for.

How dare he?

How could he?

After a year and a half together, after all the dinners, late night drinks, kisses, caresses, mind-blowing love making, surprises, and challenges along the way yet he still left.

He left him.

He left _them_.

So there he sat, finishing his second bottle of scotch, the scotch that Rafa loved and fawned for, the scotch that Sonny had walked eighteen blocks total in the freezing cold for it, and the scotch that Sonny didn’t allow for anyone else to have. Who would make use of it now? Who would come in, in a fast saunter, mumbling underneath their breath ‘ _you insufferable lot will be the death of me_ ’? Sonny smiled, but it soon faded to a frown. He gripped his glass tumbler, wishing it would shatter under the pressure of his palm, yet he had other pressing matters; matters that precluded the show of emotions, _later, when I’m in bed_.

Sonny paced the length of his small Chelsea apartment. How was it fair to continue living in this wretched space when he knew that nothing was going to ever be the same? But, there was nothing he could do to aid his mind. Just as his mind wandered, his feet did the same, and there was no stopping the continuous empty feeling he now bore and carried. They had plans, Sonny remembered. They had plans for the weekend, they had plans for his birthday, they had plans for Christmas, and for New Year’s, and Valentine’s… but now, none of that mattered, because Rafael was not there anymore.

He stumbled, resting his fist and forehead against the wall, the glass tumbler still securely clutched at his side when his sob broke. He sputtered, saliva coating his lips as his eyes shut. He kicked the wall in tandem with his fist, causing the frame next to his head to rattle.

He did it again…

... and again…

... and again…

... and again until his knees gave out, and he fell to the ground, banging his forehead once against the wall.

Of course the dull pain was preferable to the heartache he was in turn feeling, but he could go on. He had to go on. His arm slid down and he pushed his body to rest on his heels, resting his hand on his thigh. He brought the glass tumbler to his lips, inhaling sharply before downing the rest of the scorching liquid.

He hissed at the taste, feeling his tears stream down his face, and he actually felt relief. He was crying. He was dealing with this in a healthy way… -ish. No. He stood, stumbling against his deer-like legs and he trotted to his kitchen.

As he was pouring another however many fingers into his glass, he saw the pocket square; that stupid, fucking pocket square. It was the red one, the one he wore with his charcoal suit, the light blue button-down, and… wait, what was the tie? It was navy, but it had designs. In his alcohol-clouded mind, Sonny could see it, but he couldn’t quite place it yet he stared at the pocket square until the image of Rafael became clearer. He could see him now, strutting through the bullpen, strong strides, long fingers adjusting the knot of his paisley tie… the paisley tie and the red pocket square.

Leave it to Rafael to have such odd pairings, but they worked. They worked because _he_ made them work. No one else could pull it off. Sonny growled, chucking the glass back and slapping it down forcefully. He wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand as he poured some more into his glass. He leaned back against the opposite side of his kitchen counter. How many times had he stood there, looking onward to his living room to find the most important people staring back at him? Expressive eyes just admiring the man that he was without complaint or restraint, but now all he saw was a dark living room ahead.

He shook his head, feeling his lip tremble, and he held on to that fucking glass, grinding his teeth. He would not shed another tear for Rafael Barba. This was the night. This was it. No more. He mewled, parting his lips as the sting of fresh tears threatened to fall. He brought the glass to his lips, tilting it to take a sip. His eyes closed, feeling the burn of the liquid as it trickled down his throat. He was warm, he could feel it, and it wasn’t just the warmth of his small apartment anymore, no, he could blame Rafael’s scotch for this. And, as he swallowed, his insides churned. He pressed the back of his hand to his lips, still holding the glass to his face, inhaling harshly, _get a grip, Sonny! You already finished the stupid bottle, take your ass to bed._

And, so he did. He sat the glass in his sink, grabbing the bottle of expensive scotch to trash it, and as he did, the pocket square fell. He stared at it, his tears blurring and distorting the steady image of it. Red against the white tile of Sonny’s kitchen floor; red, like a fresh puddle of blood on a neatly scrubbed floor, and Sonny reveled in the metaphor of the pocket square against his floor. It’s how he felt. All of the emotions just lain bare against nothing, just a clean canvass for him to start anew, but it would take some time before he could allow his self to be vulnerable again. He couldn’t just let anyone in again, not when he was still aching so hard for Rafael.

What if Rafael came back?

What if he just needed some time to think things through?

What if he had forgotten his pocket square and he needed it back?

He would come back then, right?

Rafa knew how much Sonny loved him in that pocket square, it’s why he wore it when he was feeling particularly lost in his day. It’s why he kept it in a special box, away from the daily manhandling. Still, the quarrel existed, to pick it up or to not pick it up? He stared at it, fine red silk, stitched to perfection now crumpled on the floor. He tapped his foot, holding the scotch bottle by its neck, contemplating whether or not to bend at his waist and pick it up or continue walking towards his room, to his empty bed…

He sighed, giving in at the thought of not sleeping with the knowledge of it at his bedside at least. He picked it up, opening the lid to his trashcan to carefully drop the bottle inside the bag. He turned off the kitchen light, walking a dark hallway pass the ajar door with the overcast, pass the bathroom door, to enter his room at the end of the hallway.

That bed, his bed, left unattended the morning prior because of nerves. If Sonny squinted, he could still make out Rafael’s form etched on the crumpled sheets atop his bed. One look at his bedside table and he knew he needed to sleep, it was late, way past midnight, and at any moment his phone could go off signaling a new case.

Sleep would come easy at this point. He could thank Rafael’s expensive scotch for that, but still he dragged until he reached his side. He sat, fidgeting with the silky material in his hands. He closed his fist, etching the feel of it in his palm, and he reached in front of him, opening the drawer brusquely to throw it inside. He didn’t want to see it anymore. Now, he needed to sleep. He fell back against his sheets, turned away from where Rafael had lain a little more than twenty-four hours prior. He couldn’t help but drift into the prior night’s conversation, and he closed his eyes, protecting his tears.

_“I’m scared,” Rafael admitted._

_“Scared of what? You’re Rafael Barba,” Sonny smiled, inching closer to the body of his boyfriend._

_Rafael scoffed, “Sonny…”_

_“You have nothing to worry about, Rafa. You did nothing wrong, if anything, you saved Drew and his family further heartache,” Rafael winced at the mention of Drew’s name. He knew he had done the right thing, yet he couldn’t bring himself out of his guilt. Sonny caressed his face, watching as Rafael leaned into his palm, “I’m still going to be here for you, Raf. Whatever happens, **we** are still going to be here.”_

_Rafael closed his eyes, hiding his lips inside his mouth as the shuddering breath he had taken in broke through his nose, “I know you are, Sonny. And, you don’t know how grateful I am for it, but I’m still scared.”_

_Sonny nodded, though Rafael couldn’t see his face, he too was scared, but he needed to be strong. Rafael needed him right now, and one vulnerable part of this duo was enough. That was the deal, one stressed and the other soothed, one shouted and the other one calmed, one rested and the other one seethed, one worried and the other one reassured. And tonight, that was Sonny’s job, to reassure Rafael, to soothe, and calm him in his qualms._

_“Let’s sleep. We’ll worry about tomorrow when it comes,” Sonny soothed._

_Rafael nodded, “I love you.”_

_Sonny smiled as Rafael opened his eyes, “I love you too, **cucciolo**.”_

_Rafael snickered, closing his eyes, “I take it back; I **don’t** love you.”_

_“In your dreams,” Sonny finished, leaning to meet his lips._

Yesterday everything seemed so normal, so perfect in its own imperfection, and he brought his fingers to his lips, remembering the lingering feel of Rafael’s lips on his. He daren’t turn to face that side of the bed. He couldn’t, and he needn’t when he knew that Rafael was not sleeping by his side, or at his apartment for that matter. Sonny closed his eyes, letting his sob break through his body. He had held on to his tears, to his sorrow, to his pain for too long, and to come home and find nothing but the red pocket square was a total slap to his face, and he was feeling the burn of it all. He was feeling more than the burn of it all. He was feeling the _pain_ of it all.

And, although Sonny was going through it, almost three thousand miles away, Jac couldn’t contain her excitement. She long awaited this transfer, for the chance to work where the seriousness of these cases would take precedence and not be a matter of a joke to others. She needed the change. She craved it, and ever since she left home, she hadn’t really much craved for it. She loved being independent, and as she packed, she too reeled everything in.

In a matter of weeks, everything had changed. She had gotten the promotion she had been wanting, the job she really wanted instead of just filling in here and there, she’d be moving to the city she had wanted to move in the first place, and she’d be leaving all the heartache and pain this city had left her with.

But not everything had been grim. She’d met wonderful people in the way and as she tucked her last trinket in its place she sighed, turning to glance at the empty walls of the place she’d called home. She’d fought, and she’d spend many a sleepless night fawning over her cases, making sure she had every detail down, practicing her monologue as she walked up and down her hallway, gnawing her lip, and worrying her cuticles. Every time she had been handed a sex crimes case, she had gone above and beyond to find the justice for the survivor, and afterwards, she’d seen that they received the proper care both physically and mentally.

“Hello?”

“ _Are you ready for you move?_ ”

Jac laughed, “Camilla, aren’t you supposed to be resting? You do have an early case tomorrow!”

Camilla laughed at the other side, “ _I was just calling in case I don’t have time to wish you farewell tomorrow before you leave. I am scheduled at court all day tomorrow._ ”

Jac sighed, “Thank you,” she smiled, running her hand down the edge of a box, “And, break a leg! You’ll do great.”

Camilla snorted, “ _You’re the only one that seems to have faith in me. I don’t reckon Doyle does, though, he never really liked me anyways…_ ”

“He just hates change. When I started it was the same way. All you have to do is prove yourself to him, you’ll be fine!”

“ _I hope so… Well, I’ll let you get back to it. If I know anything about you, you’re still up packing and probably won’t get any sleep,_ ” she giggled, sighing in the process, “ _I’m going to miss you Jac! Come back to us if New York doesn’t work out._ ”

“Oh, Mila… it will. I plan on it,” she smiled, and before she knew it, the call had disconnected.

Jac slid her phone down her face, smiling at the world that waited ahead of her. She was hopeful, and tomorrow—or later on in the morning—when she’d wake, she’d be on her way to New York City, to start anew. So she did what she had done when she had gotten her job at the Seattle King County Prosecuting Attorney’s Office, she had poured a glass of red to celebrate, and she took it to her room, the last of the oh so many ones she had had in the exact same place and spot. She sat with her leg lifted, rubbing at her smooth skin as she sipped her glass of wine, and she wondered: would this be all for her? Would her life be reduced to just her work?

She sighed, she really didn’t want that, and though her family had given up on her, and her ever-growing list of excuses as to why she wasn’t dating, she still held out hope. I mean, men could have their career first and then, magically, find the time for a relationship and family, why couldn’t she? It had been hard for her to put herself out there, to date, when all she could think of were of the horrors she constantly faced whether it was in the form of a homicide case or in the form of a sex crime, she couldn’t seem to face put aside the horrors she faced day in and day out when it came to men. And though, the crimes weren’t limited to just men, they seemed to be the common denominator when it came to her docket.

She shuddered, looking to her left to find an empty bed by her side. She longed for someone to warm her bed for more than just a few hours, for more than just a night, for more than to just satisfy their needs… at times. She chuckled, taking a careful sip, leaning back on her bed.

Almost there, just a few more hours...


	2. New York, New York

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We find out how Carisi is dealing without Rafael at work. Olivia has a confession for her lover. And, we meet Jac, the fiery ADA that's bound to make the lives of the detectives as bittersweet as she possibly can.

“Carisi, you look like shit,” Amanda drawled, “How are you holding up, huh? Talk to me, please.”

Carisi shook his head, bashfully looking down at his desk, “I’m not in the mood, Amanda.”

Amanda sat down besides Carisi’s desk, reaching her arm to touch Carisi’s hand, “Sonny,” she breathed out, “it’s been weeks, you haven’t heard from him?”

Sonny looked up, opening and closing his mouth, but all he could do was shake his head. Before he had the opportunity to speak, Olivia emerged from her office, “Where are we on the Coulter case?”

Amanda squeezed Sonny’s hand, receiving a smile and a nod instead, “We’re at a standstill, Lieu. Until we can get those warrants, all we can do is keep searching, and we’ve already done enough of that.”

“Well, good for us all because Dodds called to let me know that Barba’s replacement is in,” she conceded.

Sonny faltered, “W—What happened with Stone?” Didn’t take much for him to almost spit at the mention of the name of the man that tried, and thankfully failed to put away his Rafael, but that was it, wasn’t it? He wasn’t his _anything_ anymore.

Olivia smirked, “I guess he didn’t quite… measure up to the standards of what it means to be the DA for Sex Crimes.”

Amanda scoffed, “Tough act to follow?”

“Got that right,” Olivia lamented.

Sonny had had enough of the Rafael talk, the least they spoke about him at work, the better, “So, who’re we getting?”

Olivia smiled weakly; she knew how much her subordinate was hurting. Rafael had provided his final goodbye to her, and though Sonny would never disrespect his superior, Olivia had noticed how distant he’d been, how short, and disconnected he’d been when it came to her. And, Olivia had always prided herself in having an even better connection to Carisi than the one she had had with Rollins, initially. He was easy-going, and conversation with him was almost never forced. He knew when to speak and when not to, and most importantly, he knew when not to push, and for that, she would always respect him.

“Transfer from Seattle,” she looked down at the sticky note that had been clinging to her finger ever since she emerged from her office, “Jack Cruz, according to Dodds, he worked both homicide and sex crimes simultaneously.”

“What?” Carisi and Rollins exclaimed in unison.

“Why would he be working two bureaus that have nothing to do with each other?” Carisi asked, standing, and placing his hands on his hips.

“We can ask when he shows up. I have to say,” she sighed, “I’m impressed. If he’s any good, I don’t think we’ll have a problem with conviction rates.”

Carisi scoffed, turning on his foot, and leaving the bullpen altogether. Amanda was beside herself, she hated seeing him like this, and she hated Rafael for making Sonny feel like this. Amanda looked at Olivia, watching as she shook her head. She knew what Olivia meant by that head shake: Sonny needed to be alone right now, and no matter what, Olivia wouldn’t allow for Amanda to follow him now. He needed quiet; he needed to crumble on his own. He’d been holding on, they all knew this, but he’d been holding on not for him, but for those who needed most from him, and for that, they all commended him.

Amanda sighed, watching as Olivia retreated to her office. What to do now, huh? Should she follow the man who had offered her more than a friendship or the woman whom she shared a bed with almost every other night? She fidgeted and hesitated; she would check on Olivia, she needed her more now than Sonny did, because even though they were both stubborn as a mule, at least she could get through Olivia’s thick skull.

She followed the tall woman, shutting the door behind her, “Liv?”

“He’s hurting, Amanda, we both are, but he—” her voice died on her lips and she shook her head.

“I hate him for what he’s done. I hate him for not saying goodbye. It wasn’t fair of him to just leave like that,” Amanda spoke softly, pacing to take a seat on Olivia’s office couch, “Why would he do that?”

Olivia shuddered, sitting next to her blonde lover, “Rafael needs to heal, and he can’t do that if he’s here. It’s too much for him, and being near Carisi, being near me, and the rest of us would’ve never had helped him,” she paused, taking in her hands Amanda’s small one. She stared at the ground as though she were looking for answers of her own, “He, uh,” she cleared her throat, “He said, ‘ _I’m you now, Liv._ ’”

Amanda snapped her head up, her jaw tight, “You knew?” she growled. Olivia nodded, frowning in an attempt to hold her sobs at bay, “Liv,” Amanda whispered.

“How do I tell him that his last words to me were, ‘ _I’ve got to move on._ ’ How?”

Amanda saw the sorrow behind every little line of Olivia’s beautiful face and her heart continued to break for her. She’d been carrying on this secret for the past several weeks, no wonder she’d been so restless! Amanda had tried time and again, and she chucked it up to Rafael leaving without leaving a trace, but now she knew, she was carrying this secret in order to not hurt Sonny any further. At least then, he had the comfort that they’d all been deserted by the man that they all came to love differently, but all the same. And, just the thought of Rafael having seen Olivia minutes before leaving would not only further break Sonny’s heart, it would seemingly crush it.

Amanda sighed, “Baby,” was all she could muster before squeezing Olivia’s hand, “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

Olivia looked at her, “I couldn’t, how? How would I tell you… or him about it? T—They were in love—they _are_ in love.”

All Amanda could do was shake her head, leaning her forehead against Olivia’s jaw. They shared a quiet intimate moment because words failed them both at this particular moment. They sat there, enjoying the silence for what seemed to be like hours, but that was quickly disrupted by a knock on her door. Olivia stood, giving Amanda the chance to quickly compose herself before she opened the door. It was one of the officers, letting her know that they had a visitor in the media room. Olivia looked at Amanda, signaling for her to go find him, whilst she called for Fin for his return.

Amanda stood, wringing her hands, and puffing out air. Would she be able to tell Sonny about this secret that Olivia had been keeping for such a long time or would she be able to keep it for his sake? 

She had to. 

She needed to be strong for him, even if he didn’t want her strength. But, she wouldn’t give up on him. She’d be there just like he had for the birth of Jesse, just like he’d been there throughout her pregnancy, throughout everything that had happened with her gambling, and her other vices, Sonny had been there, and so would she until someone else could come to care for him. She’d be there until someone else could come and provide him all the love he deserved, because he deserved it all, that lanky ol’ sap!

She found him in the stalls, “Carisi?”

“Not now, Rollins. Not now,” he shouted from the inside.

She sighed, shaking her head, “Is there anyone in there?”

She heard his groan and chuckled, holding on to her smile as she walked through the door. She saw him leaning over the sink, his knuckles nearly as white as the porcelain he held on to, and his cheeks as pink as cotton candy. She sighed, giving his profile a thin-lipped smile, what could she say now? How could she provide the comfort he needed? How c—

“They’re just replacing him like he wasn’t here, like h—he didn’t just single-handedly did everything for this unit,” Sonny mused softly.

It took Amanda a couple of seconds to react, she didn’t even know he had spoken until he turned his head to award her eye contact, “Carisi,” she sighed, “ _He_ was the one who left, not the other way around. How are we supposed to care for our survivors if we don’t have the help of the DA’s Office? We needed a new DA, it’s time.”

Sonny knew Amanda was right, but he didn’t want to hear that, “Don’t give me that, Rollins. We’ve done more than enough without the help of the DA’s Office,” he seethed, shrugging off the hand that had come to rest on his shoulder, “I could’ve vouched for our actions, you know that!”

Amanda smiled sadly, trying once more to give Sonny the comfort he craved, but never asked for, “We like you more as a cop than as a lawyer,” she attempted to quip, “And, even you admitted out there on the bullpen that the Coulter case is at a standstill because we don’t have the warrants we need in order to continue with the investigation of this case,” she delivered a squeeze to his shoulder, feeling and hearing the sharp breath intake the man made.

“It’s not fair, Mandy,” Sonny shook his head, “It’s not fair,” he growled through clenched teeth.

Amanda closed her eyes, taking steadying breaths as her hand slid down the blonde man’s back. She didn’t want him to crumble, but she could see how hard he was fighting to hold on, “I know it’s not,” she cleared her throat, “And, I’ll tell you what? Tonight, after we’re done with everything, we can go out, get drunk out the ass, and we can complain about the failures of our love lives. I know you don’t want to tell me, but the least I can do is be there for you.”

Sonny chuckled ruefully, shaking his head, as he stood tall, leaning forward to place his lips against Rollins’ forehead, “Thank you,” he spoke against her skin, “Thank you.”

Rollins closed her eyes, sighing as quietly as she could, “Come on, I think our new ADA is here.”

Sonny scoffed and tugged at his vest, watching as Amanda offered him a hopeful smile. He really was thankful for the blonde at this particular moment, and he had been most grateful that it had been her in this stall as opposed to their commanding officer. 

Sonny had no problems with his commanding officer, but he needed someone that hadn’t been as close to Rafael as Olivia had been. He knew the friendship they shared, the platonic love they had for each other, and though Sonny never felt like he had to compete with Olivia in terms of affection, time, and trust, he did feel that Rafael would consult with Olivia before he would consult with him.

And, that was fine! 

It’s what friends are for, but he could never get over the fact that if Rafael were to come back, he would seek out Olivia before he sought for him. 

He knew why, though. 

He hated that he knew Rafael so well that he was complacent when it came to this possible scenario and situation. Yes, Rafael had hurt Olivia, but he had hurt Sonny more than he had hurt her, and he would try to appease her before he would ever try to mend them. It was easier for Olivia to forgive, but not to forget but when it came to him, he was quicker to forget than to forgive, and just like Sonny knew that, Rafael knew it too.

He shook his head, walking several steps behind Rollins towards the bullpen, and he could hear slight conversation coming from the media room. He sighed and watched as Amanda looked over her shoulder. He knew what she was thinking, and he offered her a wry smile just to assuage her nervousness… and his! 

Once they approached the open area of the media room, he saw her turn, her short wavy hair whipping across her face, and he faltered momentarily. Her features were breathtaking and he didn’t know whether to look at her eyes or the plump of her lips. But he settled when she arched the brows over her beautiful cat-like eyes. They were brown, like the salt-water taffy he loved, and covered with a long sheath of lashes. 

What was happening?

“Carisi, Rollins—meet Jac Cruz,” Olivia said matter-of-factly as she placed her bottom on the table.

Amanda raised her brow, “Our new ADA?”

Jac extended her arm towards the blonde, “Elena Jacqueline Cruz, but I go by Jac,” she smiled.

“Amanda Rollins,” the blonde smiled, patting her sides, “So, homicide _and_ sex crimes?”

“Oh,” Jac smiled, tucking her wavy hair behind her ear, “Unfortunately, Seattle is not as… _progressive_ as New York City when it comes to sex offenses. No one ever wanted to take those cases, until I started working there.”

“You’re brave, girl,” Fin awarded, “I know how Homicide gets here, and I know how it gets for us too.”

Jac nodded, “Well, enough about me and my… accolades,” she shook her head, “Care to catch me up?” Sonny scoffed and they all turned to the archway, “Oh, I—I’m sorry,” Jac quickly apologized, “Jacqueline Cruz,” she extended her arm, “And, you are?”

Sonny turned his head, glaring at the hand that had been extended towards him. Jac lowered her arm, bringing her hand to fiddle with her pussycat bow. She arched her brow, slowly biting her lip, and giving a slight nod. She ran her hand down her front, reaching the waistband of her skirt, and clearing her throat. Olivia sighed, glancing at her subordinate until he scoffed once more, looking down at the ground. 

Why was he being this way? She was only being polite, and if the rest of the squad had been most polite, why couldn’t he? He clenched his fists by his side, he could tell why. 

The way she dressed. 

The way she spoke. 

The way she carried herself. 

Her accent. 

That walk… It was all hitting too close to home. Damn him for being weak when it came to their sultry seduction. Damn him and the laws of attractions.

He watched her move around the room, he saw as her fingers moved—what was she doing? She would fidget, but not the common type of fidgeting, it’s as if she were playing an instrument out of thin air, but then she’d noticed and she would stop, abruptly clenching her thumbs as she listened. He still hadn’t said his name to her, though if she was as smart as she made her self seem, then she would’ve been listening when Olivia said ‘Carisi, Rollins’ so if Amanda had already introduced herself, then the most plausible thing would be that _he_ was Carisi, right?

“So, as you can see, we _need_ those warrants sooner rather than later, Counselor,” Olivia interrupted Sonny’s reverie.

“He’s a bastard, Counselor,” Fin added, “But he’s a bastard with money, and with a good team behind him.”

Jac giggled, as she walked towards her purse and reached inside grabbing three blue folded papers and she turned, “I know what you need, but I won’t be handing these until I’m thoroughly convinced.”

The team launched their selves into arguments, bickering back and forth with Jac on why they needed those warrants, and Sonny just remained quiet, watching as she slid the first one: warrant to search his dorm where the assault had happened. 

Olivia sighed, seemingly over the bickering, but Sonny knew she was doing her due diligence. He knew she needed to know that she wasn’t just handing anything off, not when she was new, not when she was being scrutinized and placed under a huge magnifying glass by everyone now.

He saw as she slid the second folded paper: warrant for his cellphone, computer, and other electronics as well as any he had come in contact with, wherever they may be. Olivia glanced at Fin, receiving a smirk from her trusty sergeant. Sonny listened, now they just needed one more, whatever that one was.

“We need a DNA sample,” Amanda said simply.

“I’m listening,” Jac taunted, making the folded paper dance atop the table.

Amanda sighed, but before she could speak, Sonny interrupted, “Haven’t you heard everything from us? You could’ve given us those first two warrants on explanation alone.”

Jac stood from her chair, straightening her pencil skirt. She squinted, placing her hands on her hips, standing in front of the blonde man, “I haven’t, obviously. Otherwise, I would’ve handed you the warrants signed already.”

“We’ve done our due diligence, _Counselor_.”

Jac pursed her lips, “It’s called _probable cause, Detective_ , and all I have at the moment is a he said-she said, and what appears to be a gut feeling.”

Sonny chortled, side-stepping the woman in front of him to lean against the table. He would never admit it, but he couldn’t stand to stand near her anymore. Her scent was far too intoxicating, and if he remembered well, this is how his attraction for Rafael had started: arguing over warrants. He crossed his arms, “A gut feeling from someone who’s been on the job since you’ve been in diapers!”

Jac scoffed, turning on her heel, “Gut feelings do not get convictions, and if this is to be my first case with SVU, I am not going to waste my time, a judge’s, the survivor, or _yours_ because of a hunch,” she breathed out, closing her eyes, “I hate court and when I do go, I like to try the case once and once only. I know how traumatizing court can be, and I won’t allow for anything less than a ‘guilty’ verdict.”

“So, so, it’s all about conviction rates with you then?” Sonny hissed, waving his hand in front of him.

“I care about my conviction rate just as much as you care about the brand of my shoes. Trixie Coulter deserves to know that the man that did _that_ to her,” she pointed behind Sonny, “Is behind bars, Detective. Do your job; I already gave you the warrants you need to get me more. I’m not saying you won’t have it, I’m saying _not yet_.”

Carisi opened his mouth to say something, but Olivia interrupted him, “That’s enough, Carisi.”

Jac sighed, running her fingers through her short hair, “I have a… Judge Copeland on standby for her to sign those two warrants, and whatever you find—even if it makes him just a smidge culpable—I want it, and I’ll take it.”

Olivia nodded, “Fin, Rollins, take the warrants to Judge’s chambers, and I’ll give her a call to let her know you’re on your way.”

Olivia offered a thin-lipped smile and watched as her subordinates dispersed. As she passed Jac, she smiled, giving her a slight nod of appreciation. Jac looked at Carisi, his head bowed between his shoulders. She could sense the pain oozing from the man’s body, but she daren’t offer any words to him. 

She bit her lip, sighing as she approached the end of the table where her blazer, coat, and purse had been discarded. As she returned, she grabbed the unsigned warrant, and stashed it in her purse. She waited to see if the Detective would raise his head, but he didn’t so she decided to just let him be.

“Detective Dominick Carisi, Jr.” she uttered, “The 'Lawyer Detective', I’ve heard great things about you. I hope I can get to see those great things,” she sighed, turning to leave.

“Valentino’s” Sonny said, causing the woman to turn and raise her brow, “Your shoes, they’re Valentino,” Jac smirked, but turned to walk out. 

Progress, even if little, it was something, and she would hold on to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Please leave your thoughts below. Also, thank you to the guest that suggested this idea of a story, I hope I'm doing it justice.


	3. Substance for the Workers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jac and Sonny have another scuffle, this one resulting in a apologetic, and alcohol-seeking Jac. Will they be able to make amends?

It’d been a hard couple of months, but they had finally arraigned their suspect, Tim Starke. They’d been able to work with what Jac had been able to get them initially, much to Sonny’s dismay, and every day that passed, he had been ruthless towards everyone in the squad room, especially towards Jac. She’d done nothing to him, except occupy Rafael’s space in every sense of the way. 

She had taken his office, arranged it, and moved everything around. She’d said that she was seeking the light, that it was too dark at nighttime when she was sat at her desk giving her back to the windows that provided most light to the otherwise dark office. She’d taken his job, his assistant, and it seemed as she had gained the moniker ‘Punkin’ for her stubbornness and no-nonsense attitude. 

Sonny hated it!

Olivia had let them bicker, she knew Jac could stand her ground, even at her somewhat green stage; she had proven to have spunk and fire underneath her ass. She had even approached Olivia, and sat in her office to discuss defense attorneys and how better to figure out a way to beat them at their own game. She had been the only one of their previous counselors to do so, but she had also been the only one that had transferred in from someplace else outside of New York, so that had been understandable, and though Olivia had tried to highly dislike her, to be upset with her for taking over Barba, she couldn’t. 

Yet Carisi had been cutthroat with her, and Olivia could only sit back and watch as his spunk and nerve slowly seeped back into him.

She had missed this from him, she had missed this from her squad: the constant bickering to try and appease Bar—no, not Barba’s, Jac’s pushing over finding more evidence, making sure that the case was airtight. Tim’s team was barbarous in court, but she had managed, not for long, but she had. They had buried her in paperwork, motions, and petitions, court dates, and just time consumed. 

She was pissed, and now everyone at One Hogan Place knew _exactly_ who Punkin was.

But, locked in her office, Jac couldn’t think about anything else other than Sonny. When he had finally given her eye contact, and she’d seen those beautiful gunmetal eyes, that hid so much pain, she couldn’t help but feel her heart twitch. Then the unthinkable had happened, he’d opened his mouth and said words no woman wants to hear: the brand of her designer shoes. 

It could only mean one of few things: he had a girlfriend, he had a sister, he may have a foot fetish—which was highly unlikely—or, he was gay. Jac sighed, throwing her head back against her office chair, tapping her pen against the fine wood of her desk. She hadn’t been stuck on a coworker since before graduating when she had found herself completely besotted with the Judge she was clerking with.

Sonny Carisi could be her demise, but she wouldn’t allow herself the heartache, so she needed to focus on her cases, and right now she had two DV cases and the Coulter case that needed her utmost attention, not the six feet tall, Italian-American Detective. 

She groaned, pushing the palms of her hands into her eyes. Why was this happening? She'd worked Homicide back in Seattle. Her work place back then was a precinct with six _male_ detectives and four of the six were single and/or dating casually. If she’d been able to contain her raging hormones then, then she could do so now with _one_ —possibly gay—detective.

She groaned, dropping her head against the wood of her desk, banging her head softly against the surface until she heard a knock on her door. She really didn’t want to be interrupted, but she never knew who the hell would come visit. She picked up her head, glancing through the door’s mini blinds just to catch the faint form of the object of her madness. 

What was _he_ doing here? 

What did he want? 

God give her strength. She ran her hands through her hair and stared at Sonny Carisi through her door. His hands were in his pockets, his suit was grey, and he wore it with a white button-down and a navy tie. She struggled to swallow, her mouth suddenly dry, but when she decided to ignore him, he looked up and she had no choice but to wave him in.

“What can I do for you, Detective?” she asked, leaning back in her chair.

Carisi glanced around as he entered, taking in the changes Jac had done around the office. Not that he would _ever_ admit this out loud, but he actually liked that she’d moved around the office the way that she had, and in some sort of way, it was like she was protecting herself from something or someone. Instead of having the circular table with chairs deep into her office, she had them parallel to the door with the couch underneath the window, and across where Rafael had had the table and couch was her desk, and she in her glory. She’d added plants, and softened the otherwise harsh colors with touches of rose, white, and grey.

He glanced at the wall right in front of the door, the one that separated the two rooms to see the coffee bar. You could tell now this office belonged to a woman, everything had its place, and Sonny couldn’t help but smirk. Of course he missed walking in and the first thing he’d see was Rafael, snacking with his cup of coffee, buried nose-deep in a multitude of files, but now all he saw was that table, and couch, polished and dusted. He approached the coffee bar, glancing at her and hesitating, this wasn’t Rafael anymore.

She nodded, and only when she did was when Sonny took the final steps, bridging the gap between his body and the coffee bar. She had several stainless steel travel cups, no paper ones though.

“Us Seattleites have a problem with over-recycling,” she giggled and then smiled when Sonny looked at her.

 _Fuck!_ Sonny could feel that warmth in his stomach and he looked away, grabbing one of the six stainless steel cups. They all had different colored sleeves, so he grabbed the red one with the matching lid.

“Milk’s in the mini-fridge. There’s two-percent as well as half and half, and almond milk if you’re like me and lactose does not sit well with you,” she was speaking softly, as if she were speaking to a child.

Sonny turned and glared at her. He knew where the fucking milk was; he was a detective, and a damn good one at that. Still, all he did was purse his lips and nod. He really wanted to save all his energy for what was to come, not waste it on a simple argument that really had no withstanding whatsoever. 

He waited for the machine to finish and whilst he did, he poured half and half in the mug whilst the coffee still brewed. He heard as her chair slid against the floor and then the soft patter of her… feet? He didn’t want to think for a second that she was barefoot, so he waited until his coffee was done and he searched for the stirrers, but found none. Instead, he saw spoons; real spoons and he chuckled, shaking his head. They were labeled clean and another canister was labeled dirty.

 _No sugar_ , she hummed, leaning her bottom against her desk, “Detective?” she prodded.

Sonny sighed, swallowing his sip of coffee, “You look… comfortable,” he sarcastically said as he sized her up.

“And you’re… interrupting my leisure time,” she bitterly retorted with the same mocking tone he had used just a second ago.

Sonny raised his brow, hiding his smirk behind the travel cup, “You were the one that wanted to see me, remember? Trial prep.”

Jac knitted her brow in confusion, fidgeting with her thumbs, when she sat up straight, cursing under her breath, “Jesus, I forgot. I’ve been deep in case prep, have a seat.”

Sonny scoffed. 

Barba _never_ forgot when he had trial prep. Not with Olivia, not with Amanda, not with Fin, and certainly not with him. But, was that really fair? Jac didn’t know the team like Rafael knew the team. Rafael trusted the team and their capabilities on the stand, this was Jac’s first trial with them, and she needed all of them to go through prep with her. 

Sonny knew he wasn’t being fair, but he didn’t want to be fair, he wanted her gone, and he wanted everything as it was two months ago. He wanted to come in and see Barba at his desk, jacket discarded, sleeves rolled up, and his tie loose on his neck with a sly comment hanging from his lips. He didn’t want soft colors bouncing off the harshness of the office, or the lingering scent of citrus and vanilla; he wanted Rafael, he _longed_ for Rafael.

He sat across from her, watching as she sat on her chair. She worried her lip for a second before she raised her head, and without warning or hesitation she broke into the first question, “You interviewed Timothy Starke the day after the alleged assault _without_ your partner, why?”

Sonny glanced up quickly, not expecting _at all_ that opening question from her, but he had to give it to her, she was doing her job, “My partner at the time, Detective Rollins, was not far away. She was actually interviewing the suspect’s roommate across the campus.”

Jac nodded, looking down at her notes, she hummed, “Was that the only time you interviewed the alleged suspect by yourself, Detective Carisi?”

Sonny balanced the cup on his knee, where was this coming from? What was she trying to prove? “No.”

“Why?”

Sonny looked at her, her left forearm rested on her desk, her right elbow propped beside her hand, balancing a pen between its fingers, and she had the most satisfactory grin a person could ever sport, “Sometimes,” he renewed with vigor, “Male suspects are reluctant to tell their side of the story if they see a male detective accompanied by a female one. It’s why, on occasions, my Lieutenant has sent myself and my Sergeant to speak to male suspects.”

“Yea, but six times? That’s a little excessive, one may think it’s borderline harassment.”

Sonny sputtered, gripping the coffee mug in his fist, “What are you trying to get at, Counselor? Just say what you need to say so that we can get this over with. Oh, and before I forget, objection. Leading.”

Jac shook her head, smiling, “Sonny—”

“ _Detective_ ,” he bit harshly. How dare she! She wasn’t allowed to call him that, she will _never_ be allowed to call him that.

Jac blinked slowly, “I apologize, Detective… where I’m trying to get is that your constant visits to Starke’s dorm, place of work, and once even his _home_ can lead the jury to believe that you and the squad were out to get him at any cost,” she paused, dancing her eyes over the man’s sudden rigid posture, “Not to mention, you got rough with him in one of said visits,” she finished, dropping the files she had picked up in her hands to the desk.

Sonny dropped his leg, placing the coffee cup in front of him, “It also says there that I ‘roughed him up’ because Trixie showed up accusing him of being a coward. It got heated, quick, and I intervened.”

Jac sighed, “I know that, and I’ll make sure it’s known during direct, but Defense _will_ say that that was your end game all along,” she saw as the tension slowly rolled off of the man’s body. This case was a mess, but she was determined to make the most of it and get the team, and Trixie the win they deserved, “And before _I_ forget, overruled. Leading questions are allowed during cross examination, but not during direct.”

Shit, she was right. 

Sonny just wanted to see if she would catch that, and she did. He sighed, standing, “Good, so you’ll be doing your job in making sure that doesn’t happen, and I’ll be doing mine which is making sure you have everything you need to keep this son of a bitch behind bars.”

He turned, not allowing for another word to be spoken between them. Jac sighed, leaning back against her chair, but keeping her stare trained on the cup that the Detective had just used. 

She didn’t know _what_ she was doing wrong. She had been polite, she had been courteous, and she had even let them lead in how they had wanted this relationship and interaction to go. She had won over Fin relatively easily, all he wanted was his warrants, and he would provide the necessary evidence before coming to her. He had even asked her if they had enough for a warrant. Once she had Fin’s respect, Amanda had trickled behind. She wanted these charges to stick, and though Jac noticed that during the DV cases she was slightly impartial to the men, she still wanted what was best for the victim.

Jac would’ve thought that winning over the Detectives of SVU would’ve been easy and that their commanding officer would need a little bit of work, but Olivia had come around, not quickly, but she had. Jac made sure to call before showing up to her precinct, each and every time, and when Olivia pushed for something, Jac tried to see it met, and when she couldn’t, she would tell her: “Get me more.” 

There’d been no arguments between Olivia and her, in fact, Jac thought Olivia had the utmost respect for her for having sat down with her and asked for her opinion when it came to opposing counsel. It made sense in Jac’s mind, she was new, and Olivia had been in the force and around these men and women for nearly nineteen years.

It’s what she would’ve suggested to any colleague seeking to know her coworkers, especially such a tight unit like SVU. And, she had no doubt that she could’ve gone to Carmen and ask her about the defense attorneys, but Carmen only knew them on a interpersonal level, not on a professional level like she would be getting to know them. Olivia had been most helpful, and they went through a long rundown of defense attorneys whom she had faced throughout her stint at SVU, first as a Detective and now as their Lieutenant.

Jac sighed, gathering her strength and force to pack everything that she needed and head over to her apartment. Her feet dragged, nothing much had happened since Sonny had left her office in haste, and she hated herself for not stopping him and apologizing then and there. She hadn’t meant to offend him in any way, but she was just doing her job, and if she got that big of a rouse from him that could possibly mean that Defense could and _would_ do the same when it came to his turn on the stand. And, that was the last thing she wanted. She couldn’t go home now, not when her mind was so scattered and preoccupied.

So, she asked around for a great bar with a stiff drink, and she got sent on a four-minute walk up Baxter Street and once she entered, she knew she could come here often. Be it after a tough day, a loss, a win… to clear her mind, to go over her notes, to bring a friend, to eat, and decompress; she could do so here. She smiled, walking towards the back. She really didn’t want to be bothered, so she settled her belongings on a two-person booth, and she leaned against the bar.

“What will it be, sweetheart?” Asked the man with a smile and a bite to his lip.

“I’ll have an Old Fashioned, heavy on the bourbon, easy on the sugar,” she replied, smiling.

The man tapped the bar surface and she turned, making sure no one had occupied her booth, though who would do so? There were only ten or so people in the establishment besides her. But, before she knew it, she’d told Derek to keep posting the old fashioned’s, and that he did. He did them great, just like she had asked him.

She sat in thought, dancing her glass tumbler atop the surface, thinking of ways she could make this case better. Not just for her, but for all of them. She also needed to figure out a way to have Sonny come around. Even if he didn't like her for how ever long her tenure at SVU would be, she at least needed to find a way to have him be cordial. Yes. She could do cordial. 

She had done cordial before, with Captain Fishel. She despised him, but she did cordial in order to make her cases and her peace of mind easier on her. The man was a total piece of work, but thankfully he retired, and the remainder of her tenure as Homicide DA was done in peace and… fun.

She looked up, ready to signal Derek for another drink when she saw him. She took a sharp breath intake because she knew he had seen her first. She stood, gathering her stuff so that she could pay and leave, but Sonny had other plans, “Wait, please don’t leave on my account.”

Jac glanced at the ground, “I was just leaving,” she spoke softly.

Sonny smirked, “You weren’t, you didn’t even notice me until now, Counselor,” Jac looked nervous almost, and Sonny hated that he had caused such distress in her. He sighed, “Please, sit. Let’s have a drink,” Jac nodded, “What are you having?”

Jac bit her lip, setting her belongings on her side of the booth, “D—Derek knows,” she said, flicking her hair to one side, and running her fingers through it.

Sonny smirked and turned, signaling Derek for another round, and a beer for him. He slid in, “Look, before you say anything, I want to apologize,” Jac raised her brows and watched Sonny stand to grab at their drinks, “I know I haven’t been the most… welcoming, but so far, you’ve proved yourself a great asset to the team.”

“You don’t have to say that, Detective. I just want to… work in peace for both your sake and mine’s.”

“And for that reason, I’d like to start over,” he smiled, raising his drink, “Dominick Carisi, Jr. but everybody calls me Sonny.”

Jac smiled, glancing down at the drink placed in front of her. 

She had no reason to doubt the man. He was here, trying to make amends, and he had his beautiful eyes and an equally beautiful smile to accompany it. She sighed, picking up her drink, “Elena Jacqueline Cruz.”


	4. Secrets Kept

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Coulter case comes to an end and as the team is celebrating Jac learns of a secret Sonny Carisi has kept.

“To our new ADA, Jac,” Benson praised, raising her wine glass, “For putting up with our incessant whining, bringing us the warrants we wanted—”

“Not before making us work for them,” Amanda quipped rapidly.

“—and for being just what we needed for this case. Congratulations, Counselor! May your stint at SVU be as successful as this first case.”

Jac glanced down at her lap, hiding her reddening cheeks, and coy smile to the rest of the squad. She had done well, so, so well to the point that the jury took roughly twenty-minutes to convict. Now, Tim Starke would be spending his better years in prison for not doing what he was studying to get paid to do: listen.

After that night where she had run into Carisi at the restaurant, they had… mended their work relationship. Carisi opened up about his work, about the stresses, and how this case was particularly hitting home for him since he dealt with a similar case a couple of years back that involved his, then, eighteen year old niece. She had apologized for the situation, but had been content with the outcome of it all. The boy was behind bars still, and had a little ways to go, but Mia had been thriving, and was now on the road to graduation. They spoke about their career choices, and Sonny jumped the gun when he said: “You don’t have to tell me, you went to Harvard.”

Jac scrunched her nose and shook her head, but replied between giggles that she hadn’t stepped foot in the northeast before in her life. She was a Stanford graduate, top of her class too. She had been a west coaster her entire life, well, almost her entire life. She explained how her parents moved to Seattle from Puerto Rico when she was just but two years old with her six year old brother, and once she’d graduated high school, they’d returned to the island, leaving the siblings to fend for themselves. Carisi apologized, but she explained that she didn’t resent them for it. They were estranged for a long time because of it, but that she understood it now, and thank them for it.

Carisi shared the names of his sisters, his nieces, and the story of how he ended up in Manhattan SVU. Jac was impressed, it seemed as if him and his dad were the only male energy in the household. Teresa had Mia, and two other girls. Gina had no children as of yet. And, Bella had just birthed a beautiful baby girl by the name of Becca a little over three years back. 

Girls surrounded him; _this could explain why he knows about shoes._

But, Jac didn’t prod him with that, and before they could get carried away, they announced the last call.

One night turned into two, that later developed to three, and four, and before you knew it, they had made this a habit. They would meet after work—when permitted—and they would sit down, in that same booth, and go over cases, speak of life, and have easy-going conversation. The team could sense the shift in Carisi’s demeanor, and Fin had even teased him on having a crush on the beautiful bronzed woman, but Carisi had only blushed and brushed the subject off. 

He wasn’t going down that road again, no sir. 

So here they were once more, at that restaurant, drinking, and talking loudly about the win at court today. They had seen and experienced a new side of her. A side of her that they never thought could ever be there, at least not to the point where some of their colleagues that were there to see if they could ask her out had actually sat in thought, rethinking whether or not she was the one to mess with. Dodds had even showed up at court at the beginning of the week when the trial started. He wanted to see the faces of the team when they saw her in action. He had smugly grinned at Olivia, giving her a slight nod to then stand and leave, telling her to keep him posted on how the trial went.

“Who knew that sweet face could be so savage in court,” Fin smirked, taking a swig of his beer.

“I knew,” Amanda added, “It’s always the sweet ones,” she winked at Jac, leaning into Olivia.

Olivia scoffed, chancing a glance to a staring Carisi, “Obviously,” she said, “Who knew this one here would be the one to give you a run for your money, Counselor.”

Jac looked at Carisi and smiled, turning to address Olivia, “We’re outside of working hours, _Olivia_. You can address me by my name.”

“Technically, ‘Jac’ isn’t your name,” Carisi interfered, smirking as he danced the lip of the bottle against his rosy bottom lip.

“Yea, what’s up with that?” Amanda added.

Jac sighed, “Elena is my mother’s name,” she ran a hand through her recently cut hair, and Carisi felt his heart stop and start, almost as if he had developed a sudden murmur, “My father was the one that started calling me ‘Jackie,’ but I hated it, so my brother suggested Jac, and I’ve been Jac ever since. My mother calls me Elena, and so does everybody else when I’m being particularly stubborn.”

She giggled, biting her lip, “You get it with your first name and I get it with my last,” Amanda playfully said, nodding her head sideways towards Olivia.

“Rollins,” Olivia warned, but her eyes remained mirthful, and Jac giggled again, making Sonny’s heart stop and start.

The table erupted in laughter, and they spent the rest of the night like so: laughing, drinking, and getting to know each other a little bit better. 

Olivia had shared with Jac her relationship with Amanda, just so that she wouldn’t be blindsided if anything were to happen, and she had let it known, that OnePP were more than aware of their relationship, and nothing was to happen. She learned a lot about her squad then, who they were as individuals, what they’d achieved as a unit, how high in regard they held Olivia, and how ruthless they were for each other. 

She loved that. 

She wanted that. 

Not just from them, but also for any unit she may possibly work with.

She’d just gotten to SVU, and she sure as hell did not want to leave, but she had heard the office chatter and how _invaluable_ her predecessor had been to both the unit and the DA’s Office. She didn’t want to get too attached to the members of the one-six just in case he returned and wanted his old position back. She, more than anyone, understood how it went. 

In the end, it wouldn’t be her choice. 

He’d have more seniority than her and if Benson wanted him back, they would put him back where he belonged. She’d earn her keep someplace else, and though she didn’t feel like the squad was pushing her aside any longer, she would do her best, and _be_ her best for them and her self.

Both Olivia and Amanda were the first to leave, claiming they had to get home to their children. Jac waved them goodbye and thank them for the nice words exchanged. Fin followed out roughly twenty minutes later, saying he had a ‘lady friend’ to take care of. Jac and Sonny giggled, and saw as the man left, covering for the drinks just like Benson and Rollins had done so. 

Sonny returned with an old fashioned for Jac and a beer for him, he slid opposite to Jac, sliding the glass towards her.

“Oh, thank God,” she breathed, “I don’t know how you lot can stand the taste of beer.”

Sonny chuckled, nodding his head slightly, but he didn’t say anything else. He let the silence linger and he gauged whether it was comfortable or awkward, but watching as Jac took a swig of her drink, closing her eyes, and leaning her head back, he knew that she needed the quiet, even if just for a mere second. Sonny smiled, placing his beer bottle on the table with a thud, waiting for Jac to rejoin their conversation.

“Sonny, you don’t have to stay if you need to go,” she spoke softly and with her eyes closed.

Sonny smiled, looking down at his hands around the bottle, “I could say the same thing to you,” he offered simply.

She smiled, shaking her head. 

What were they doing? 

What was _she_ doing anyways? 

She sighed, running her teeth through her bottom lip, tasting the sugar of her drink on her lips. By now, Sonny knew exactly how she liked her drink, and he knew that when she asked for the extra bourbon, she was having a bitch of a night, and when she asked for vodka on the rocks, Sonny knew that all she wanted to do was forget momentarily. 

No one had ever paid so much attention to what she drunk, how she drunk it, and what each of them meant for her before her friendship with Sonny. He knew that on those vodka nights, he needed to see her to at least the front of her building. He didn’t trust the city that surrounded them, and he had let her know as much.

Two nights ago was her most recent vodka night. She’d been nervous about the outcome of this trial, and she’d been dreading the impending holidays that were fast upon them. 

In her slurred speech, she’d let Sonny know that she was to go back to Seattle for a couple of days, Thanksgiving with her brother had always been fun after her parents had left, but Christmas was always particularly hard. She hadn’t meant to blurt that out, something so personal and vulnerable to her character, but that’s what happened when vodka coursed her veins. She’d been most grateful _that_ had been the only thing blurted out that night, and she sighed once more.

She could feel her feelings for the greying man grow and she’d allowed them to grow because of what Amanda had let slip in confidence. She had smiled so hard that afternoon that her cheeks had hurt for the rest of the day. She brought her head down, feeling her short hair tickle her jaw, and she smiled, pushing one side behind her ears.

“Why don’t you let it grow?”

She opened her eyes, “I was raised Catholic, Sonny. My mother _made_ me keep it long. I hated it.”

He scoffed, shaking his head, “Always out to prove something, aren’t you… _Jac_?”

He smirked, and she wanted nothing more than to slap that smug curve off of his face. 

_Slap or **kiss**? _

She rolled her eyes, more at herself than at the man across from her. She found it annoying how he seem to know her so much, but what she hated more than that was the fact that she would fight the rest of the squad for warrants, and if Sonny came in and asked for one she would only ask if they’d done their due diligence and if they had probable cause. If those questions were both answered satisfactorily, she would hand them over like candy. 

She really needed to change, but how? She had a weak spot for this man and now; she was to spend Christmas with him and his family. Just great.

She fidgeted with her napkin, “So, the person I got for Christmas gift exchange is bound to be spoiled by me,” she chuckled.

Sonny perked up, “Oh really? Who is it?”

Jac snickered, “Really, Sonny? I hope you’re better with perps,” she giggled, taking yet another sip of her drink.

Sonny smiled, the type of smile that would make his eyes seem crinkly and Jac, in her inhibited state blushed. 

Why would she blushing? She didn’t quite know, all she knew now was that she wanted to see that smile more often on him. She would work tirelessly to put it on his face, no matter the cost.

“Are you sure I can’t bring anything?”

Sonny sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes in the process, “For the hundredth time: no. My mother will die before I let you bring anything for Christmas Eve dinner,” he chuckled, “Just make sure to bring something to wear for Church, otherwise, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

Jac nodded and went to reply when Sonny’s cellphone began to ring. She bit her lip in anticipation, if this was another case, she would most likely head in with him, just to get a head start. He reached in his pocket and retrieved the device, furrowing his brow to the name on the screen.

“Bells, what’s going on?”

 _Bells; Bella, his little sister._ “Bella, slow down, you’re not making any sense!”

Jac watched as an array of emotions fleeted through Sonny’s face. 

They went from confusion to concern to anger to concern to… fright? No, that couldn’t be right. 

In the short amount of time that Jac had known Sonny she knew that Sonny was seldom scared. He worried, yes, virtually all the time, but scared? No. That couldn’t be. 

She listened as Sonny closed his eyes and frowned, she was trying to see if she could overhear something, anything on the other side to no avail. She glanced around, attempting to spot their waitress and once she did, she signaled the air as if she were writing something down. She smiled and turned back to Sonny, watching as the man opened his eyes. 

There was something that seldom was there again: guilt.

“All right, Bella. I’ll be there in ten minutes, please try to calm down. You did everything you could,” he soothed.

Before he hung up, their waitress had dropped off the check, and if her calculations were right, all they needed was forty dollars to close their tab and include a tip. Sonny stood, fiddling with some bills, “I—I have to go, Jac,” in his haste, he banged the table, knocking over his bottle of beer and spilling it all over the table.

“Jesus!” Jac exclaimed, reaching in front of her for the wad of napkins she’d been collecting throughout the night, “Sonny, what’s going on?

Sonny had closed his eyes, stabilizing his body against the table, “I have to go to Mount Sinai.”

“Ok,” Jac responded, dabbing the napkins through the puddle of spilled beer, “We’re not that far, is everything all right with Becca?”

Jac looked up just in time to catch Sonny shaking his head incessantly, “No,” he whispered, raising his head to award Jac with his steely gaze, “It’s my daughter, Fabiana.”

The hand that had been moving atop the table, cleaning the mess that Sonny had made across it came to an abrupt stop. 

_Did he say what I think he said?_

Jac looked stunned. Perplexed. She was at a loss for words. Had Sonny just said _daughter_?

Jac slid out of the booth, dragging her coat and purse behind her. She placed a hand on Sonny’s shoulder, seeming pulling him up into a straight stance, “Sonny, I’m sure she’s receiving the best care there is. Let’s get out of here and you can tell me everything… or nothing on our way there.”

Jac opened her cat-like eyes and Sonny noticed, for the first time that when she drank, they seemed more amber than chocolaty, almost like the color of the drink she so much liked to consume.

He felt his chin tremble, “She had a seizure, two actually,” he lowered his head, not wanting Jac to see the façade of a man that stood in front of her, “She—She,” he choked on a sob, and thank God for Jac because if it not had been for her, he would’ve crumbled and dissolved into a heap of clothes and bones onto the floor.

Jac shushed him, using her left hand to pat his back. Her right shoulder and hand were the things holding the tall man in place. Otherwise, she feared that he might fall. 

She dragged her hand from his back to his bicep, curling her fingers there, and with gentle force, she escorted him out. By the grace of the God she witnessed a miracle: passengers getting off of a cab in front of the bar they were exiting at and she hollered at the couple to hold it for them.

They eased in and Sonny could only stare out of the window. His leg bounced whilst he chewed on his thumb nail. She used her credit card to pay for the ride and she followed the instructions on the little screen attached to the panel. She glanced at the distressed man next to her. She didn’t know what else to do, so she did the best thing she knew how to do: comfort. She stretched her arm, tucking her credit card in the pocket of her suit jacket and curled her fingers around Sonny’s sweaty palm. He tensed at first, but his leg stopped bouncing, and he sighed, realizing that she was in fact there with him. He squeezed her fingers, feeling the courage she tried to pass through their hands.

He watched as the cab circled around, and he was bound to protest when Jac beat him to it, “He’s just circling to the pediatric side, Sonny.”

God, how had they gotten here? 

Had she told the driver where to go? 

He didn’t know and he certainly didn’t care because he was about to be with the only person that mattered right now: Fabiana.

Once he felt the cab stop, he pulled the door open, fumbling to fetch his wallet, but again, those nimble fingers steadied his hands, “It’s already been taken care of,” Jac smiled and Sonny… well Sonny would swoon later.

He squeezed her hand, turning towards the emergency room doors. Jac was hot on his heels and when she entered, dizzy and breathless, she heard him, “Fabiana Carisi!”

A blonde woman stood towards the side of the entrance with another child clad to her body. If Jac’s mental picture gallery was correct, this was Sonny’s sister Bella, and his niece, Becca. Sonny ran to his sister, gathering her in his arms.

“I—I’m so sorry, Sonny. I—I—I tried, and, and—” Bella sputtered.

She was too distressed to formulate words coherently, so Sonny wrapped her up in his love just as he kissed his niece’s hair. Jac smiled sheepishly, he already had family to lean on, so she pressed her hand between his shoulder blades, faintly whispering his name.

Sonny turned, “Am I good to leave?” She asked sheepishly, not wanting to leave him so soon, but obviously wanting to give the family some private time.

Before Sonny could say anything, the doctor appeared, “Carisi?”

Sonny turned, holding on to Jac’s wrist, “That’s us, I’m her dad.”

The doctor nodded and smiled, “She’s going to be just fine, Mr. Carisi. She had two febrile seizures causing her to accidentally bite her tongue. Has she been feeling under the weather as of lately?”

Sonny nodded, “She—She had a minor case of strep two weeks ago, but I’ve been giving her the antibiotics.”

The doctor nodded, “She’s a strong one that little one,” he mused, “Her strep developed into an ear infection. It happens Mr. Carisi.”

Sonny deflated, finally being able to breathe easily, but before he could launch himself into any other question, Jac beat him to it, “And, what about the febrile seizures, doctor?”

The doctor raised his brows at Jac, “And, you are?”

“Oh, sorry!” Jac smiled, “A friend, I apologize.”

The doctor looked over at Sonny for approval and received a nod. The doctor sighed, “We don’t see febrile seizures back to back on a child _unless_ they’ve had them before,” he responded and turned towards the Carisi’s, “Has she had febrile seizures before?”

Carisi turned and stepped away, giving no choice to Bella but to answer, “W—We didn’t know of her existence up until a year ago, doctor. Her mother just dropped her off to my brother and disappeared.”

Bella spoke softly, clinging to the child in her arms and the doctor nodded, “We’ll monitor her closely. You can see her now,” he smiled.

Carisi turned, breezing past the women standing there to follow the doctor in order to see his daughter. The girls looked at each other, and Jac offered a small apologetic smile. She extended her arm and introduced herself, apologizing for her brash butting, but Bella, ever so clever only smirked. 

She had an inkling that this wouldn’t be the last of Jac…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why not make Sonny a single father? We'll learn more about Fabiana and these two dummies and their feelings in the upcoming chapters.


	5. It's okay to ask for help, Sonny!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roughly a week later of Jac finding out Sonny has a daughter. Will she be able to help and be there for him in his time of need?

Six days and counting since Jac had laid eyes on Sonny after watching him follow the doctor to be at his child’s side. She had called the Lieutenant after having left the hospital shortly after introducing herself to Bella, but she’d found that Sonny had managed to text her about what had happened to his daughter. Apparently, the entire squad knew about Sonny’s daughter, and she couldn’t deny the hurt she'd by having been kept in the dark, but why should she? Sonny had _only_ started to let her in just a couple of weeks prior to this incident.

The team had picked up another case; nothing like the one they had just finished trying. This one involved two bodies, two dead bodies at that; the rape and murder of the Macarty siblings. Brother and sister were found dumped in a back way alley cold, barely dressed, and bruised. Ginny hadn’t survived and had been announced dead on arrival, but Raymond had put up a fight but had ended up passing two days later at the hospital, and the only consolation that Jac had then was that he was warm and safe when he passed. Christmas was nearing, only two weeks away and the squad was nowhere near finding a suspect or even a witness to the events that had occurred on that eventful night.

She hadn’t wanted to impose on Sonny, and whenever she could, she would ask Amanda about them. All Amanda could ever say was: “He hasn’t answered our calls, but I spoke to Bella, she’s been to his place to help.” 

It seemed as if the SVU team had a mutual understanding of not stepping into each other’s toes and meddling where they weren’t invited, but that wasn’t how Jac operated. She had made it her mission then to find out where Sonny lived and pay him and his daughter a visit. But she would have to wait until the day ended for that, now she had a very red-faced Amanda in her office, yapping about a warrant.

“So, you found the parents?”

“Well… _if_ you want to call her that,” Amanda bit harshly, pacing in front of Jac’s desk, “A few of the neighbors pointed us to their apartment, and when we knocked, the door just... gave in.”

“Forced entry?” Jac inquired with a furrowed brow.

Amanda scoffed, “Jac, there’s no need for forced entry _when there aren’t any locks on the door_ ,” she shouted, huffing in the process.

“Detective,” Jac tried, but the blonde woman was on a rampage.

“No, no, don’t ‘detective’ me. That woman and her kids were being pimped out. They more than her, _obviously_! If she hadn’t been so high, she would’ve noticed that!”

“Amanda,” Jac said sternly, effectively putting a stop to the pacing, “Where is the mother?”

“Cuffed to a bed at Bellevue waiting for a trial of her own,” she bit her lip, shaking her head, “What kind of mother doesn’t notice her kids missing for _days_?”

Jac shook her head, “We aren’t here to judge, Rollins. What is it that you need?”

Jac spent a little over two hours going over everything that Amanda had found out thus far. All Amanda was asking for was for a warrant for her financials. The building they lived at was one of the nicer ones downtown Manhattan had to offer, and if the team’s suspicions were correct and someone was in fact pimping her and her children out, they needed a way to:

a) prove it, and

b) find out where the money was coming in from. 

It was the only way a Judge would agree to it. Jac had prepared Amanda in those two hours for their argument in chambers with Judge Peck. If Rollins couldn’t win her over, then Jac would step in, but Jac was sure there would be no need for that.

They’d been successful, not that there was any doubt in Jac’s brilliant mind about it. She had sent Rollins off with instructions for the warrant and had told her to keep her updated with anything that she could find. Jac returned to her office in a quick step, finding Carmen in a somewhat heated argument with a defense attorney. She stood back and listened as the man, whom she had not met before, _demanded_ Carmen to find the DA who was bringing forth, and she could quote: “ _These ridiculous and preposterous charges_ ,” against his client.

“I got it from here, Carmen,” Jac stated, leaning against her window.

The man turned and scoffed, “ _You_ are the new Sex Crimes DA?” Jac raised her brows, widening her eyes, and crossing her arms against her chest, “I’ve heard chatter that you’re a tiger in the courtroom.”

“I doubt that you came all the way over here to ‘seek me out’ and accost my assistant,” she said curtly, “What is it that you want and need, Counselor?”

The man bit his lip and grinned, “Defense Counsel John Buchanan, I am here about the Silverman case.” Jac raised her brow once more, feigning ignorance to what the man was talking about, “One of your… _less_ important cases with SVU?” Jac shook her head, cocking her hip. She wanted Buchanan to call the man for what he was, and she wouldn’t let up until he did. Buchanan rolled his eyes, “Your Peeping Tom.”

Jac feigned surprise, parting her mouth in a silent o, “Of course,” she said, tapping her fingers over her brow, “How could I forget?” She scoffed, “What about the Silverman case?”

Buchanan glared at her, now knowing why she had gained the moniker of Punkin in such a short time at the DA’s Office, “Can’t we speak inside?”

Jac pursed her lips, “I’m not keen on inviting people in my space who do not demonstrate the most common decency to a clerical worker. I’ll ask again, what do you need?”

The man shook his head and squared his shoulders, “I came to offer a deal: three months in prison and a year probation. It’s his first offense, let us be lenient,” he smirked.

Jac snickered, “A misdemeanor?” She asked in disbelief, “And, a Class B one at that? I think you’ve been fooled by the pretty face, Counselor; the answer is no.”

“Oh, come on, any judge will disagree with you.”

“Not when I make sure they know that though this has been his—quote, unquote—first offense, when police raided his apartment he had footage of more than six neighbors.”

“They allowed my client into their dwelling—”

“He’s the building’s sup! Of course they’re going to allow him into their dwelling, but they weren’t allowing him to place cameras all over their apartments,” Jac defended.

“Allegedly.”

Jac rolled her eyes, “We have everything we need, Counselor, and done by the books. I am pushing for five years in prison. Unless you want to accept that as my counter offer and save all of us the time of going to trial?” Jac offered, smiling.

“A felony?” Buchanan asked, seemingly shocked by the admission, “Maximum charge is three years for Peeping Toms… five years, that depends upon the circumstances of the case.”

“Yea, and the circumstances of this one merit the punishment. He’s been doing this for over five years…”

Buchanan was out of sorts. Jac was definitely a tiger when it came to the law, and though he might’ve underestimated her, he had to admit that the girl had nerve. He would give credit where credit was due. Just because she was young and new didn’t mean she didn’t know what she was doing. 

He scoffed, closing his eyes, “Three years prison, and he’ll allocute.”

Jac smirked, “Add two years probation and you have yourself a deal, Counselor.”

Buchanan groaned and rolled his eyes, “Fine, you have yourself a deal… Punkin.”

Jac pursed her lips and dropped her arms, “You can speak to Carmen for a time tomorrow for us to put an end to this and the name is Cruz, _Buchanan_.”

She side stepped the man and winked at Carmen as she entered her office. That was another one she could put to bed. As soon as she settled in her office chair, she made work of her phone, calling down to the one-six to let the Lieutenant know of this quick success. 

The day transpired and finished with arraignment court, she was more than happy to be leaving at a decent time, and thank God for Carmen. She had left early, but not without leaving Sonny’s address on her desk near her phone. She smiled and thanked the heavens for that woman, what would she do without that brilliant girl?

She packed her stuff and left, catching a cab to Sonny’s. She pondered in calling him first, just in case he weren’t home, but then again, if in six days he hadn’t answer a single phone call or text, what would change now? No, she would surprise him. She would be the friend that she would want if and when something of the sorts would happen to her. She would be there, helping him, giving him relief and aiding him and his daughter in whatever they could need. 

Jac didn’t know much about his sisters, but she did know that Teresa lived in Connecticut, and Gina was—according to Carisi: “ _Far too eccentric for children and settling down_.” She had chuckled then when Sonny had mentioned it to her, and if she remembered right, Gina lived somewhere in Brooklyn. And Bella, well Bella had moved to Manhattan just when she found out she was pregnant with Becca.

She had been so in thought that she hadn’t notice when the cab driver had pulled up in front of Sonny’s apartment building. She paid the driver and dragged her purse and attaché behind her, running up the stairs to catch the door before it locked behind the pair that had left the building. She had remembered Sonny’s apartment number from the piece of paper where Carmen had written out the address for her. She waited for the elevator, and when it arrived to Sonny’s floor and it opened, she could hear faint cries coming from down the hall. She furrowed her brow, following the cries and praying that they weren’t coming from Sonny’s apartment.

She sighed when the cries got louder as she neared the door. 

Right in front of Sonny’s door, she raised her hand and knocked as loud as she could muster, and within seconds, the door swung open, revealing a very tired-looking Sonny. Jac frowned when she saw the under eye bags Sonny sported, the sweat over his brow, and the pink flush to his cheeks. 

He was ill. 

Whatever his daughter had had, she had passed it on to him, and being the man that she knew he was, he had sought his sister’s help, but not to the extent he had needed it.

“Sonny,” she said breathlessly.

“She—She’s hurting. T—The medicine…” he trailed off, lowering his head.

Jac shook her head, pushing through the threshold to find a beautiful, beautiful chubby face, sodden, and florid from all her crying. She dropped her belongings on Sonny’s dinner table, quickly undoing her coat and throwing it over a chair. She knelt, grabbing the blonde girl in her arms and nestling her against her chest. She bounced the girl, patting at her back when she felt the girl moving in her arms. Jac held her underneath her bottom, watching as the girl pulled at her left ear.

“Does it hurt, pretty girl?”

The girl wailed, nodding. Jac glanced behind her, “I already gave her the antibiotics. She doesn’t have another dose for two more hours,” Sonny said, sagging his shoulders in disappointment.

Jac nodded, “In my purse, there’s a small lip balm container. It’s coconut oil, give it a couple of seconds in the microwave and bring it to me, hurry.”

She watched as Sonny moved, quickly, but with a drag. He did as bidden, and brought the container with caution to Jac, “It’s—It’s hot.”

Jac nodded, “All right, pretty girl,” she addressed the crying girl in her arms, “You’re going to feel something warm going down your ear, but I want you to stay still, ok?”

The girl looked to her father, and eased her crying, heaving, and hiccuping as she pulled on her ear. Jac leaned the girl’s head against her shoulder, pouring a few drops of the warm liquid down the girl’s ear. She continued to heave and hiccup against Jac’s shoulder, but she’d calmed tremendously after just a minute of relief. Jac looked at Sonny, and saw his bloodshot eyes. He really did look exhausted, but oh how handsome he still looked!

“Go,” she said softly, “Lay down, I’ll keep her company.” Sonny opened his mouth to protest, but in return Jac glared at him, shutting down any sorts of protest from him.

He sighed, not having the energy to argue, “Thank you, if—if you need anything, please wake me up.”

“Sonny, go to bed. I got her.”

And, got her she did. She soothed little Fabiana, and she kept her nestled against her shoulder until Fabiana’s hiccups ceased. She had sat down on Sonny’s couch, rocking the girl gently, and after ten minutes or so she had asked the girl how she felt, but received no response whatsoever. All the exertion of the crying, all the exhaustion from the pain had worn out her little body. 

Jac smiled, pushing herself up from the couch. She walked the small hallway in Sonny’s apartment carefully opening doors until she found the one she was looking for. She stepped in, admiring the accents of lavender and cream, and she smiled, carefully placing a sleeping Fabiana in her crib.

She watched the girl sleep for a little while longer before she exited her room. Jac assessed the look of the apartment, it wasn’t messy, but it definitely looked like a small hurricane had been through the space, so she sighed, removing her shoes, and going about cleaning and picking up. She was thankful then for her short hair, Sonny’s home was incredibly toasty so she had shed her jacket, leaving her in a blouse and trousers. She glanced at the clock propped on the wall, giving her notice that dinnertime had come and went and the two blondes that lived in said dwelling didn’t seem as if they’d eaten. 

She bit her lip, was she really about to rummage through someone else’s kitchen?

She mustered her courage, and went in search through the cupboards. She found several ingredients she could use to prepare something for the sleeping blondes. She was as quiet as a mouse and as efficient as an ant in doing what she needed to do when Sonny spotted her. He was most grateful for her at this moment. She had come to him without being called and had taken charge. She had given him almost two hours of reprieve, she had made Fabiana feel better, she had made _him_ feel better, and now she was in his kitchen, making something for them eat.

Sonny saw as she shimmied her bottom whilst she removed what smelled like lemony chicken from the pan. He caught sight of his good bottle of wine and he scoffed, startling the bronzed beauty, “I _know_ you didn’t use my good wine for dinner.”

Jac clutched her chest, biting her lip before she spoke, “I should be thanking God for not having me using a knife rather than thinking of ways to kill you, Dominick Carisi.”

Sonny raised a brow, pursing his enticing pink lips just as a scoff fell out of his lips. He was at a loss for words momentarily at the use of his Christian name. 

No one used his full name, well, his mother did when he was in trouble, but no one else did. 

Not even his other partners. 

He had always been Sonny… just Sonny, but at that moment, in his kitchen, standing in front of the woman that had been usurping his thoughts as of lately, he was Dominick. He had an urge of diving deep into those plump lips, but he held on, blaming his foggy brain on the medicine.

He sighed, raising his eyes to meet hers, “Thank you.”

Jac reached across, rubbing his arm, “Oh Sonny,” she breathed out, “It’s okay to ask for help.”

He nodded, offering Jac a thin-lipped smile. He’ll have time to sort his feelings later. He drew a breath in, “W—What’s for dinner?”

Jac smiled, looking over her shoulder to the meal she had prepared for the blondes. 

Sonny hadn’t kicked her out for meddling. 

Sonny had welcomed her...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter will have a second part attached to it. It will start right after dinner...


	6. So deep in my feelings...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter starts where the last one ended. We find out more about Fabiana and how she came to be and we get a glimpse of the feelings these two harbor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are some opinions in this chapter about how *I* feel as a bisexual woman. These opinions are solely mine and have passed them down to Sonny for the sole purpose of the chapter. I'm not saying this is how every bisexual person feels when it comes to their relationships, this is how *I* feel when involved with either men or women. Just swap Sonny's thoughts.
> 
> Thank you for reading and enjoy!

Sonny groaned, tipping his head back against the back of the couch, “I don’t think I can breathe.”

Jac chuckled, watching the blonde girl in front of her play with her toys, “She seems to be doing better.”

Sonny glanced at his daughter, nodding, and smiling at the giggling girl, “Yea,” he mused, “Thank you, again. You really didn’t have to do this, Jac.”

Jac shook her head, “Nonsense! I’m sure you would’ve done the same for me if I would’ve found myself in a bind,” she giggled, taking a final sip out of her wine glass.

Sonny smiled and sat straight, sighing as his movements caught up with his head. He studied Jac’s profile. That beautiful smile she had on, the faint indentation her teeth were leaving on her bottom lip, and how her eyes sparkled with the dim lighting of his home… He could picture her there, sitting and entertaining his daughter on multiple days. 

He could even picture her sitting there, with him resting against her stomach watching TV or just existing in their silence. Sonny turned on his hip, sitting sideways, and facing her, but the movement didn’t seem to bother her for a second. He could feel all the feelings begin, he could feel how his heart would slowly beat, mimicking the bat of Jac’s lashes. He could feel himself slowly demounting all of the bricks he’d placed surrounding his heart after Barba had left.

Was he ready to launch his self back out there so quickly after Rafael’s departure? 

He scoffed softly, shaking his head, _quickly? It’s fixing to be a year, Sonny!_

He gently scolded his heart for not wanting to give up Rafael, the memory of what they had, the feel of his body pressed against his, and his soft breath against his cheek. 

He needed to give him up. 

He needed to move on. 

Not just for his sake, but for the little one sitting in front of him that for the first few months had tirelessly asked about her beloved ‘Wafi’, but little by little had slowly let go of him. 

It wasn’t easy at first, nothing ever was, but as time slipped by, so did Fabiana’s memory of him. He glanced at his daughter, smiling and mumbling contently about something with Jac, and he looked up, catching as Jac’s pronounced dimple showed up when she smiled.

He felt his face burn red. 

He felt very much like a voyeur, just staring, and scrutinizing Jac the way he was. He cleared his throat, gathering the courage to speak to her when she turned, widening those cat-like eyes, and smiling at him beautifully. Sonny swallowed, getting lost in Jac’s face. 

He started at the freckle over her brow, sweeping his eyes over the near-perfect arches that were her eyebrows. He was in awe at her eyes, they had once more reached that clear brown that he hadn’t noticed before, and now it seemed as if he couldn’t escape it. He moved his eyes down the slope of her nose, delicate and perfect on the rest of her face, and then his stare grew broad across her cheeks, high and defined. And, finally they stopped at her lips, where her parted lips formed an enticing gap, and he was snapped back when she spoke.

“Are you all right, Sonny?”

He nodded, “Y—Yea, just fine.”

She nodded, lowering her stare as she finally caught on to what Sonny had been doing. 

These fools! 

These adorable fools knew not what lurked in their hearts, but they were bound to find out whether they wanted to or not. It wasn’t just Sonny that had been ogling Jac, but Jac had been ogling Sonny as he fed his daughter. At every chance they had, they would each pretend they were staring at something else, but they both knew they were looking at each other. And, now, Sonny continued to stare at the demure behavior of his counterpart as she ran her finger on the fabric of his couch.

She tucked her hair behind her ear and Sonny knew she was about to speak, but she was distracted when Fabiana climbed her lap, “Hey there, beauty!” She exclaimed, holding on to the girl’s back as she reached beside her to the side table next to the couch, “What’s going on, huh?”

“Owie,” she mumbled, pulling at her ear.

Jac looked at Sonny who in turn had been glancing at the wall clock, “Fabi, I can’t give you more medicine, sweetheart. I’ll put a warm towel, like earlier.”

The girl pouted and turned to look at Jac. Jac noticed she had already tears starting to form on her lash line and she couldn’t help but smirk, “You know, Fabiana,” she commenced in a low tune, “Your father gives me that same look when I tell him he can’t have a warrant.”

Sonny snickered, “Screw you, Jac.”

Jac winked at Sonny, and the simple act caused a flutter in Sonny’s stomach, “The lip balm container is on top of the table, give it a couple of seconds again.”

Sonny nodded and stood, doing as asked, but this time with a little extra pep in his step. He brought back the container and handed it to Jac, “Careful,” he whispered, and watched as Jac poured a couple of drops into Fabi’s ear, “W—Where did you learn that?”

“Huh?” Jac inquired. Sonny gestured to the coconut oil in her hands and she parted her mouth, tilting her head in recognition, “I always carry coconut oil in the winter for my lips, or my hands, or for whatever really. My mother is a big at home remedy person, she did this for us every time we would get ear infections. In her eyes, there’s nothing vapor rub or coconut oil cannot fix,” Jac giggled, patting at Fabiana’s back.

Sonny sighed, enjoying the sound that dropped from her lips, “Well, God bless your mother… and you,” Sonny husked, offering Jac a wry smile.

She blushed, biting her lip slowly as she averted her eyes. She could feel her heart slowly palpitate in her ears and she didn’t know why, but she sought comfort in the girl atop her. She ran her hand down Fabi’s back, smoothing the pajama shirt against the ridges of her spine. She played with Fabiana’s curly blonde locks that were still damp from bath time, all the while she avoided Sonny’s gaze. But, she should’ve known better, she could _still_ feel Sonny’s eyes on the side of her face.

She scoffed, “I know your mother told you that staring is considered rude, _Detective_.”

Sonny smiled, “She also told me that if I didn’t eat my vegetables, I would stunt my growth. Look at how _that_ ended up for me,” he suggested. Jac rolled her eyes with a shake of her head and Sonny gaped his mouth, “Now, I know your mother told you something about rolling your eyes at your elders…”

Jac looked at Sonny through her lashes, “Elders?” She scoffed, chortling loudly, “ _You_ are barely five years older than me, Dominick Carisi. _You_ are _not_ an elder.”

There it was again, the use of his Christian name on her lips. He would do whatever it took in order to hear it again: bother her, annoy her, anger her… whatever it took for him to listen to her say ‘Dominick Carisi’ again. 

He tried to reel in his flirtatious demeanor, but there was something about seeing Jac with his daughter that kept spurring these feelings out of him. It had been the same with Rafael. Every time he saw him with Fabi, playing, cuddling, disciplining, or even just existing within the same space, it was like something overtook him, and he knew what it was: the sense of family. There was no bigger turn on for Sonny than the feel of domesticity. He craved it, almost yearned for it, and when he felt like he was close to it—now more than before—his body reacted like so.

“I’m older than you, that’s all that matters.”

Jac rolled her eyes once more, giggling, “I do what I want, Sonny. You can’t tell me what to do.”

“Want to bet on that?” he quickly spitted out.

Jac let her jaw hang as she grinned, but she quickly recovered and pursed her lips. She heard the girl on top of her yawn, and she was grateful for the distraction. Sonny’s last statement had made the air around them thick and heavy, laced with tension, and although she wanted nothing more than to continue this back and forth with Sonny, she had to remind herself that she had a toddler in her arms. She had Sonny’s toddler in her arms.

She shook her head, “Someone’s getting sleepy,” she mused softly, pressing her cheek against the girl’s head.

“Right,” Sonny berated himself, standing quickly to take his daughter in his arms. The girl squirmed, mewling as her father attempted to detach her from Jac’s torso, “Come on, _piccolina_. Jac has to go home, Fabi.”

Fabiana raised her head; knitting her eyebrows as she stared at Jac, “Go?”

Jac smiled, running her hand down Fabiana’s chubby cheek to rest at her jaw, “Yes, sweetheart, I have to go, but we can see each other when you don’t have an owie anymore.”

“No,” she said sternly, crossing her arms, “No go.”

“Fabiana,” Sonny warned.

“Wait, Sonny,” Jac breathed out, “Fabi, let’s make a deal, yes?” The girl pouted, but nodded nonetheless. Jac shook her head and bit back her scoff, the girl really did resemble her father all those months ago when Jac had denied them the last warrant they needed for the Coulter case, “I’ll stay until you go to sleep and then I’ll go, but I’ll be back tomorrow to see how and you Daddy are doing, ok?”

The girl pondered Jac’s proposition, and she lowered her arms, “Pomiss?”

“Yes, I promise,” Jac said surely.

Fabiana smiled sleepily, throwing herself in her father’s arms. Sonny caught his daughter effortlessly, nestling her below his chin. He placed a kiss on her head and inhaled softly the indistinct scent that was Fabiana Madison Carisi. 

She had come into his life when he least expected it. He had been dating Rafael for a couple of months when he received a knock to his door at nine o’clock at night. He had a habit of not looking through the peephole so he opened the door, thinking it was Rafael, but what stared back at him were two blondes: one with teary eyes and the other one with tiresome ones.

Madeline had been a brief fling, something to take his mind off of the growing feelings he was having for Rafael. Sonny knew from a young age that he was attracted to both sexes, and at first, he would question it, struggle with it, but once he gave in to the love of a man there was no fighting it anymore. 

He knew that both men and women were bound to be his vice. And, he enjoyed them differently, felt differently with both of them. There was no comparing one to the other; how could he? 

With women, it was expected of him to be the protector, someone who they could go to, and seek comfort. But from dating men; he discovered what equality _really_ meant in a relationship: he played to his talents not his genitals, and in turn it made for a better relationship when it came to women.

When Madeline had told him about Fabiana, and that in fact she was his daughter, he couldn’t believe it at first. He had berated her for keeping Fabiana from him, but then he realized she had only kept her _because_ of him. Fabiana was short from turning one when Madeline had left her with Sonny at his old apartment, saying that she couldn’t do this any longer. 

Fabiana had been a blessing for Sonny, and though he hadn’t the faintest clue of what to do when the child would cry out for her mother, he had weathered the storm of those first few weeks with no other than Rafael at his side. Neither of them knew what to do, but together they had figured it out, and with the help of Bella, and their mothers, they had made it safely to her first birthday and second one too.

Sonny had hoped to see many more of Fabiana’s birthdays with Rafael at his side, but that had changed drastically. He wasn’t here any longer, but now he could see this beautiful woman at his side, if he could only muster the courage to ask her out, kiss her, touch her… do something! Sonny smirked as his eyes danced from the slope of his daughter’s button-like nose to the breathtaking smile that Jac had on her lips. He was completely smitten and he wasn’t sure if it were the after effects of the cocktail of antibiotics he’d been taking or sheer exhaustion, but he needed to get a grip.

“She’s asleep,” Jac softly whispered, bracing herself on the couch cushions to stand, “Why don’t you go lay her down and I’ll clean up here?”

Sonny smirked and shook his head, holding Fabiana under her bottom, “You’re a nicer person than I thought.”

Jac turned around in a whip, tucking her hair behind her ear, “What kind of impression did you have of me at the start, then?”

Sonny just shrugged, giving his signature wry smile as he disappeared down the hall to Fabiana’s room. Jac eyed him, expectantly waiting for Sonny to say something, anything, but he just scoffed, and entered Fabiana’s room, mumbling something unintelligible to Jac’s ears. 

Jac did a double take, looking up at the ceiling and sighing. She knew what her stomach was doing, she’d felt it before, and she had run from it countless times too. She couldn’t allow for her feelings to cloud her judgment, not when she had _just_ started working the unit. 

What would the chatter be? 

What would they think of her? 

Their cases would be called into judgment and Sonny’s character would forever be tainted when it came to his investigative skills.

She gathered the glasses of wine as well as the spoutless Sippy cup that belonged to the rambunctious two-year old that lived in the apartment. She carried everything to the kitchen and quickly washed the glasses and cup, placing them on the counter in the drying rack Sonny had. She wiped the counter clean and washed her hands, walking back to the living room where she began collecting the colorful blocks around the rug to place them in the open box in the corner of the living room. She knelt, sitting on her heels and sighing, reminiscing to when she played with the same blocks with her brother in their home back in Seattle. She smiled, picking up her pace so that she could stop intruding on father-daughter time.

She stood, and when she turned she damn near collided into Sonny. She shrieked, closing her eyes, “I swear to _God_ , Dominick Carisi, if you do that to me _one more time_ …”

Sonny blew out the air he’d been holding as he watched her smile at the blocks his daughter had been playing with shortly before climbing her lap. He chuckled and bit his lip, because she had said his name again. The name his mother had graced him with, the one that belonged to his father, and had been given to him in lieu of being the only boy and the one responsible for carrying out the Carisi name.

“You know, I could get used to you calling me Dominick,” he said with a smirk.

Jac crossed her arms, “What happened to ‘everyone calls me Sonny’, Sonny?”

Her brow was raised as she looked impishly at Sonny, “Well, I’ve known nothing but people calling me Sonny. It’s like you with Jac,” he offered, waving his hand before tucking it in his pocket.

“I was called Elena at one point and time, it’s just confusing,” she shrugged.

“To avoid said confusion,” he begun, leaning forward, “my parents just always called me Sonny. I was convinced my kindergarten teacher had some sort of mental problem since she couldn’t remember me shouting and turning beet red at the face when I would scream that my name was Sonny, not Dominick.”

Sonny offered a small chuckle and Jac smiled. The man was truly endearing, how could she not allow herself to feel the fluttering in her stomach? She shook her head once she realized the sudden florid hue on Sonny’s cheek, why was he blushing? She snickered, shaking her head as the silence lingered over their small conversation.

She approached Sonny, patting his shoulder playfully, “Well unlike you, _papasito_ , I knew my name was Elena when I was in kindergarten. I knew how to read too.”

She moved quickly, missing how Sonny’s breath caught in his throat at the sound of Jac’s mother tongue falling from her lips. It had always been his downfall, and living in New York City had awarded him on many an occasion the wonderful gift of experiencing it both directly and indirectly. And ever since living in Manhattan, he had begun picking up a few words here and there so he _knew_ what that word meant. It was an endearment, just like any other, but he couldn’t deny the sudden warmth that flooded his body, starting on his face, and ending at the tip of his fingers.

He turned around to watch as Jac slipped on her blue suede pumps, “Do you know the designer behind these too?” She grinned when he rolled his eyes.

“You’re never letting that go, huh?” She shook her head, gathering her blazer, “Are you going to tell me? How much did they cost anyways, two-hundred bucks?”

“On sale!” She exclaimed, placing her hands on her waist, “Double it, and they’re Stuart Weitzman since you’re so interested in them.”

“I’ll let Gina know,” he mumbled, walking towards the door and opening it.

Jac lingered just on the threshold, her back against the jamb when she looked up to notice Sonny’s flushed face. She brought her hand to his face, cupping his cheek as she knitted her brow, “Sonny, are you ok? Y—You’re flushed.”

He brought his hand to her wrist, moving his thumb against her skin. He felt it then, and she felt it too. With every stroke of his thumb she could feel her throat tighten, they were deep in their feelings, they were drowning in them, but if they allowed themselves to save each other, then maybe, just maybe they could float above the surface, whilst still being fair with their feelings.


	7. Christmas at the Carisi's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jac and Sonny spend Christmas together at the Carisi home in Staten Island. Sonny has... a situation at Church. And the truth kind of, sort of comes out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Religious topics at play.

She’d been shaking with nerves. 

Spending Christmas at a friend’s house was something she’d done many a time before. She had done it with Camilla from work, she’d done it with Mic in college, and now she was to do it with Sonny. He’d been most insistent when he’d found out that she had spent her Thanksgiving in her apartment on the Upper West Side by herself eating takeout whilst watching the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade instead of spending it with family or at least with friends. She had made plans to spend it with her brother back in Seattle, but he'd cancelled last minute to spend the holiday with his fiancé's family.

Jac had only rolled her eyes to later receive a double scolding from Olivia and Fin. She was glad that she’d been gaining the trust of her detectives enough for them to invite her into their home and share family time with her.

Now here she was, on a car service ride on her way to the Carisi’s family home. 

Sonny had insisted on picking her up, but Jac had declined, saying that she needed to tie up some paperwork at the office and that she would be at his parent’s home a little after noon. Carisi had looked at her sideways, attempting to guilt her into a confession, but he knew that the cases they were currently working had taken a hit on every body on both sides of the spectrum. 

They were caught up in the police work and her caught up in all the legal stuff, they hadn’t been able to catch a breath and they’d been most happy when the holiday week had snuck up on them and granted them latitude in their work.

She was thankful that the snow had stopped falling; nothing worst than driving with a steady snowfall in a foreign place where you don’t know your landmarks. An hour drive could’ve easily turned into more if she’d decided to drive herself like she was contemplating on doing. 

Meanwhile, as she sat on the back seat of the car, she thought about the blonde man waiting for her on the other side of the city. She had really caught some strong feelings for the lanky detective. She scoffed, fidgeting with the tights beneath her dress, simultaneously gnawing at her lip. She’d done this before, why was she so incredibly nervous now? _Because, it’s Sonny **and** his family!_

She grunted; closing her eyes and shaking her head, she’d be fine. Sonny was just a friend, a colleague providing warmth and company to someone who had no family during this special time and holiday.

Though, over in Staten Island at the Carisi’s home, Sonny hoped to escape the never ending interrogation that had become a weekly affair ever since Rafael’s departure, and it always started the same way and the same person led the questioning: his mother. 

She’d been worried sick once she heard through Bella what had happened, and she’d insisted on coming over, but Sonny had been able to fight her off and keep her at bay, stating that he would spend time with Bella, and caring for his daughter. She’d been reluctant, like every mother, but she trusted her son wholeheartedly yet she could still tell that he hadn’t fully digested everything that had happened.

“How are you _really_ doing, _mimmo_?” His mother asked, sitting across from him at the dining table.

“Ma,” he started, rolling his eyes, but his mother knew him better than he knew his self at times. She reached and grabbed his hand, squeezing it in hers. Sonny sighed, hanging his head briefly, “I’m fine, Ma. I promise.”

Mrs. Carisi smiled sadly, bringing her hand up to cup her son’s cheek. He turned his head, placing a brief kiss to his mother’s tired hand, and he smiled, “If you say so, Sonny. If you say so.”

She knew better than to push. She could push and prod all she wanted when it came to her daughters, but her son couldn’t resemble his father more because it was not physically possible. Even as a child, Sonny would share what he wanted to share, Sonny would do what was expected of him and not complain, not even when he wanted to. He aimed to please, and he would always put others’ needs before his own, cost him what it may. 

And just as they both sat there in reverent silence, she could see every weary line, every hopeful glint, the under eye circles, and the continued growing grey that had spread across the sides of his hair.

He was young, so, so young to sport such greyness, but even through all of that, she could see that he was ease. 

He was… at peace. 

She rolled her eyes, causing Sonny to snicker when the door opened and they heard all of the girls filing in with loud chatter. She loved her daughters and her granddaughters too, but when the lot of them got together… Lord help her. When she married into the Carisi name she hadn’t foresaw having so much estrogen around her, but God bless her husband and son that had put up with a household of women, and by the looks of it, they would continue producing women into the Carisi line.

“Ma, come get your daughter!” Shouted Teresa.

The women and children appeared through the kitchen, carrying multiple grocery bags, and balancing the toddlers on their hips. Their mother stood, leaving Sonny leaning back against the chair he’d been sitting on, “Where’s Daddy?” Gina asked.

“He’s out enjoying some quiet before he has to spend all night and day tomorrow with you squealing girls,” she jabbed, smiling still as she rummaged through the grocery bags.

Teresa and Gina looked at each other and rolled their eyes. Teresa approached her brother, sliding his daughter to him, “So, Sonny, where’s this _friend_ of yours?”

She snickered; occupying the chair her mother had been on just moments ago, “She should be here any minute now. She, uh, she had to wrap up some things up at work.”

“Jac, Dada?” Fabiana mumbled.

Teresa raised her brows, chancing a glance at their sisters. Sonny blushed, hiding his face from the scrutiny of his siblings, “Y—Yes Fabi, Jac’s coming.”

The girl smiled, squirming in her father’s hold, “Jac, as—as in your ADA?” Bella asked, turning to approach them at the table.

“Sonny, what is it with you and lawyers?” Gina questioned from her mother’s side, “And, Bella, what the hell? Why didn’t you tell us you met her?”

“That’s what I want to know too, Bells,” Teresa said, using the same tone their mother would use on them as kids, and sometimes as adults.

Bella rolled her eyes, “We met a couple of weeks ago, when Fabi had that bad ear infection. I guess she and Sonny were together and she came with him to the hospital. She stayed behind whilst we waited. Nice lady,” she finished.

Sonny groaned, “You do know I’m sitting here, right?”

The girls snickered and giggled, and before they could answer, Sonny’s cellphone vibrated against his thigh. He placed his daughter on the ground between his legs and stretched his leg to smooth out his pocket. He answered without paying attention to the screen, “Carisi.”

Jac snickered on the other side, “ _Is that how you answer your phone regardless of who calls?_ ”

Sonny smiled and shook his head, “What do you want, Cruz?”

“ _I’m here, s—should I knock?_ ”

Sonny stood, mindful of his daughter, “Yea, I’m coming to open the door now,” he finished, tapping the screen of his phone and approaching the door.

Little feet followed, and when he swung the door the open, there she was climbing the steps of his home. She had her garment bag over her forearm and a small weekend bag across her body, and when Fabiana saw her, she yelled out her name, though Jac’s name on Fabiana’s untrained tongue sounded more like ‘yak’ rather than Jac. Jac finished climbing the steps, snorting at the sound of her name out of Fabiana’s mouth. 

Sonny reached out, taking Jac’s garment bag in his hands so that she could bend to pick up his daughter. Fabiana squealed as Jac bounced her and pressed her lips to the little girl’s cheek.

Sonny looked at them, engrossed with the affection they had found in the other. He bit his lip and stepped back, allowing Jac to file inside. She stomped her feet on the rug, ridding her boots of any snow she’d picked up on from the sidewalk in. Jac stood just besides the door, waiting for Sonny to guide her to where she needed to go, but once Sonny turned around, he noticed all the women of his life staring back at him. He felt his cheeks grow warm and he glanced at the ground, clearing his throat, seemingly breaking the trance between Jac and his daughter.

Jac looked up and away from Fabiana who’d been entranced by her dainty gold cross necklace, “Oh, hello.”

She smiled, switching Fabiana to her hip, “Uh, Jac, meet my mother, Luisa,” he signaled to his mother and Jac extended her arm, “My sister Teresa, and her daughters: Mia, Lavinia, and Sofia; my sister Gina, and you already know Bella and Becca.”

Jac shook everybody’s hand and when she got to the girl in Bella’s arms she tickled her tummy, causing the girl to giggle, “It’s a pleasure to meet all of you,” she sighed, “And, Mrs. Carisi, thank you so much for having me.”

The mother of four shook her head, “Nonsense, no one should spend Christmas alone.”

Jac nodded and smiled, “I like your boots,” Gina complimented.

Sonny and Jac snorted simultaneously, “Told you,” he cockily said.

Jac rolled her eyes, shouldering Sonny playfully, “Shut up,” she managed to say through gritted teeth. “Thank you, Gina.”

“What did Sonny tell you?” Gina gestured with her chin.

Jac smiled, looking at Sonny, “Your love for shoes, it seems to be a shared… vice.”

“Chloé’s, huh?” Gina smirked.

Jac looked at Sonny, receiving a smirk in turn when he opened his mouth, “Shut up, Carisi.”

He snickered again, shaking his head, “Well, I, uh, I’m going to put this in the closet, and I’ll give Jac here a tour.”

As Sonny crossed the living room to place Jac’s garment bag in the coat closet, his sisters, nieces, and mother parted like the Red Sea, and he returned to Jac and Fabiana. Jac bended to place Fabiana on the ground, and once she straightened she removed her weekend bag, dropping it at the bottom of the stairs in an inconspicuous corner. She followed Sonny upstairs, listening as Fabiana ran around with her little cousin, but not before she heard the snarky remark Teresa made under her breath. She chose to ignore it, chuck it up to a misunderstanding, but she soon realized the tension through Christmas Eve dinner.

Not that Sonny ever noticed through the continuous laughter between Gina and Jac. The two had hit it off almost immediately, talking up a storm about anything and everything. It hadn’t been like this with Rafael. Not because he was a man, but because the Carisi sisters had been mortified of Rafael and it had taken a long minute for them to come around. 

He had bonded with his father quite quickly, and his mother had been over the moon with the man too, but this interaction was different. Everyone seemed relatively at ease. She had joined the teasing that Gina had directed towards him, she had giggled and snickered with Bella when his mother had admonished him, and she had been particularly attentive to his nieces and daughter when the girls came around asking questions and telling stories.

And, as much as she tried to avoid those forget-me-not blue eyes, her stare seemed to graciously fall upon his. She would smile and avert her eyes if he’d catch her staring, but other times he’d be too engrossed in conversation to even notice her staring. She had never seen the detective across from her so free and at ease. 

His shoulders weren’t sat high up on his neck, his brow didn’t sport those harsh lines that seemed permanent on his face just like his frown, and his jaw wasn’t hard and set. Now his face sported other types of creases and lines, he even looked younger with his sudden growing flush. 

_A flush? He’s blushing._

“When are you going to let Gina color you hair, Sonny? You’re starting to look like Mr. Fantastic,” Teresa quipped.

Something in Jac sparked and ignited, almost as if someone had lit a match under her ass, and suddenly, she couldn’t bite back the retort that came through, “Do not get rid of the grey, Dominick Carisi,” she smiled, shifting in her seat when she realized what she’d said.

Sonny smirked, growing redder to the face. His mother hid her amusement behind her hands, and his father arched a brow to Jac’s sudden protest. Bella smiled, glancing at her husband, and Gina waited for Teresa to say something, but when she didn’t, she spoke, “Not the first time Sonny here submits to my chair.”

Jac shrugged a shoulder, looking down at her plate, “I like the grey,” she paused, pursing her lips, “Besides, what’s a good piece of steak without a little salt ‘n pepper?” She looked up at Sonny, winking in the process.

Tommy—Bella’s husband—was the first one to snort and belt out his laughter, and after that, it was like a trickle effect. Even the older Carisi’s joined in with laughter at the flirtatious jab that didn’t go unnoticed by the eldest Carisi sibling. She scoffed and stood from the table, leaving everyone behind in awe at her behavior. Jac was about to apologize for overstepping, she hadn’t meant for anyone to feel uncomfortable when Ma Luisa interrupted, giving notice that if they wanted to make it in time to Church for the midnight mass, and be able to get good seats for them to sit together, they all better get a move on.

Jac felt everyone around her move, but she sat rooted to her spot contemplating whether or not she had seriously crossed a boundary there. She had only done so to continue to tease Carisi, and though yes, she did enjoy the flirtatious banter between her and the detective, she couldn’t help but think that this time, she’d gone a little too far. She shook her head and looked up, sighing as she caught Sonny’s playful eye glint. He still had a bite of his food in his mouth, and as he chewed, he stood and smirked. 

Jac bit her lip, maybe she hadn’t cross a boundary after all, perhaps with the sisters, but not with the man at the other end of the teasing.

But, she would have plenty of time to think about that during mass. 

Right now, she had busied herself in combing through Fabiana’s beautiful ringlets; that most likely were passed down from her mother since her father didn’t sport an inch of curl in his glorious head of hair. She smiled and cooed at the girl, making sure she sat still for her to be able to place the barrette in her hair, and once she was done, she accompanied her downstairs. The flow to the bathrooms had been a steady stream, one would finish and the next one would go in, and after Bella made work of both her daughter and youngest niece, Jac had volunteered to see that Fabiana was dressed and ready when her father nearly collided with them.

Jac was wearing a double-breasted, quarter sleeve navy dress with black tights and her black Chloé boots, looking up at Sonny with her beautiful cat-like eyes, and his heart did something akin to a somersault just before it sunk in his chest. He wanted to speak, compliment her smile, and the slight pinkish hue he saw growing on her cheeks, but his mother yelled out that they were leaving. Suddenly everyone was in the living room, making it feel ridiculously warm and stuffy in a matter of seconds. 

Tommy and Bella were to take their car with their daughter and Gina, Teresa and her kids were in their car, and Carisi, Fabi, and Jac were to go together with his parents. Coming in with Bella and the girls was no easy task, but thankfully Amanda had agreed to drop them off. She was on call this week; therefore she was keeping the unmarked SUV.

At Church, just like in the back of his parents SUV, Jac’s intoxicating scent permeated through his nostrils. Out of the hundreds of parishioners there for Midnight Mass and that indistinct frankincense smell that was unmistakably a Catholic Church, all he could smell was her deliciously enticing oceanic and chypre scent. 

It was like a foreign mixture of what could be her lotion and what was her perfume. And, although between the two were sitting his daughter and nieces, her scent had carried and reached him effortlessly. 

He couldn’t escape her. 

She was sitting at the far end of the pew and all Sonny could see were her hands and crossed legs. Her hands were doing that fidgeting thing that they did the first day they met each other, they were playing an invisible instrument, and he wanted to know what tune melodically played in her head for her fingers to move that way.

She shifted, leaning forward quickly to adjust something behind her back, and Sonny watched as her pearly whites dug into the flesh of her plump bottom lip. She smiled a small smile and cocked her head, her short wavy hair—prominent on her right side—fell away from her face, and he was able to see her jawline; how it clenched in concentration and how it moved with her mouth. He moved his eyes down the sharp line, watching as her fingers pressed against her skin, and as his mouth parted in admiration, her face was gone. 

He sat straight and felt squirming next to him, but Fabi was too quick for him to protest and her little feet were on the ground before he could say ‘no’. He watched as she approached Jac, and stared as Jac leaned forward to pick up his daughter, and now, all that was in his view were her knees, dressed in dark tights, and knee high boots.

He inhaled sharply, running his hands through his face. 

There it was again: frankincense and that indistinct oceanic-woody scent. They had blended together now, the scent of almost every Roman Catholic Church and the scent of her, floating in unison, lingering near Sonny’s aura, and it was driving him insane. 

His thoughts wandered freely to what it would be like to actually inhale the scent from its point of origin; his nose nuzzled in her neck, right at the crook… would he get a waft of the woody scent or the oceanic one? 

Would he smell her shampoo? 

Would his breath elicit a moan or a hiss? 

Or, maybe even the drop of his name—his _real_ name. 

Would she shudder at the feel of his lips on her skin? 

Would she shiver at the cool sensation of his breath against her nape? 

Would her nails dig into his pants? 

Would he be granted more access to explore?

The sudden tightness in the groin area of his pants was what brought his wandering mind back to the now. He felt it in the skin of his cheeks, the warmth and rapid growing sensation of his flush; he felt it on his skin, glistening with a sheath of sweat and goosebumps; and he felt the strain his cock held against his boxer briefs and trousers. 

He cleared his throat, clenching his fists tight until he felt the burn of his nails digging into his palm, and he stood, excusing his self to his sisters as he made way down the nave towards the north transept where confessions were being held. There was no one waiting, thank God, it had been a minute since Sonny had been to confession, but with every step he took he remembered the reason of needing it now. 

He scoffed, shaking his head, and smirking; Rafael hadn’t been able to elicit such strong feelings in him in the middle of Church, but _her_? He hadn’t even thought of her that way… had he? No! 

He shook his head, sighing once he got in front of the small door that gave access to the box. He swung the door open and knelt, hanging his head between his shoulders in thought. Was he really about to confess that he had aroused his self in the middle of Mass thinking about the scent of his friend and colleague? Sonny looked up through the little mesh window that gave view to where his Priest was sat at, patiently waiting for him to begin.

It took another shuddering breath before he could muster up his courage. Signing the cross and gently kissing his thumb he begun, “In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. My last confession was two years ago.”

“ _If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness_ ,” the Priest said.

Sonny couldn’t help but scoff and glance at the ceiling of the box. When they said God had a sense of humor, _this_ is what they meant. Of course Sonny had more than a handful of sins since his last confession, but he condensed it to a few minor ones, and closed with the one that had just happened, feeling the familiar rush of blood to his face, neck, and chest. The Priest was quiet, listening to every word, and if he _was_ judging, Sonny couldn’t tell or know, and for that he was more than grateful.

He finished, resting his head against his clasped hands, “I am sorry for these and all the sins of my past life.” Sonny listened to the Priest as he offered his penance and once done he recited his contrition, “ _O’ my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended you and I detest all my sins, because I dread the loss of heaven and the pains of hell. But most of all because I have offended you, my God, who are all good and deserving of my love. I firmly resolve with the help of your grace, to confess my sins, to do penance, and to amend my life. Amen_.”

He was given absolution and as the Priest made his cross, so did Sonny, “Give thanks to the Lord for He is good.”

“For His mercy endures forever,” Sonny answered, giving silent thanks as he stood.

By the time he opened the door to confessional, Mass had already ended, and people were filing out of their pews, hugging friends and family members, and wishing them a Merry Christmas. Sonny smiled, standing a little bit taller when he caught sight of the woman that had placed him in this predicament in the first place. She floated through the crowd, holding against her chest a sleeping Fabiana with dangling gams against the sides of Jac’s sinuous torso. He could’ve found her in the crowd without the need of his daughter being attached to her, but Sonny found that even if that were so, he wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

He met them outside, in the cold chill of the Christmas early night and he smiled as Jac eased into her car seat the slumbering blonde girl. Here it was, another twenty-minute car ride smelling Jac’s aroma. He caught her smirk when his father drove underneath a streetlight, and she winked at him, biting her lip as if she knew where he had gone in the last fifteen minutes of Midnight Mass. His mother hadn’t prod, so he scoffed and shook his head, raising a finger to his pursed lips, and mouthing the word ‘later’ in her direction. She nodded and leaned back, turning her head to look out the window to what looked like the beginnings of a White Christmas.

At the Carisi home, Sonny had taken his daughter upstairs to his old room, following Tommy and a sleeping Becca. He would return downstairs to give Jac some extra blankets and pillows, even though he knew his mother had already done so, but one could never too caring, right? 

Jac had shed her shoes in the living room where her and the Morino girls were to sleep under the twinkling lights and the pine smell of the Christmas tree. The girls had already crashed, and Jac went in search of a glass of water. She stopped before she turned into the open space of the dine-in kitchen, listening to the voices that she could immediately place as the Carisi sisters.

“Did you _see_ what she showed up in?” Teresa hissed.

“Oh please, Reese, like you haven’t worn shorter skirts than that,” Bella defended.

“She has _great_ taste in shoes,” Gina mumbled softly.

“That’s all it takes for you to like someone, huh?” Teresa bit back.

“What’s your fucking problem?” Gina retorted, “You’ve had a stick up your ass ever since you found out Sonny was bringing her by. What’s the big deal? Can’t he move on? You were the first one that wanted to kill Barba when he left and now that he’s found someone to move on and be happy with you have a big problem with?”

 _Rafael? So, he **is** bisexual! _“That’s not the point here—” Teresa frustratingly said.

“Guys, I don’t think Sonny’s said anything to her yet,” Bella intercepted.

“—did you see how she _told_ him not to dye his hair? What the hell!”

Gina snorted, “Is _that_ your problem, Teresa? That you can’t stand seeing another woman boss around our little brother?”

“Hey,” Jac heard from behind her, and she turned with a start, closing her eyes, and breathing harshly.

“Dominick Carisi, remind me to get you a cowbell as a gift when we’re back in the city,” she sighed, willing her beating heart down.

“Really trying to live up the fantasy of making me a piece of steak there, Jac, huh?” He chuckled, holding a fleece comforter under his arm and a pillow in his hand.

She tittered, shaking her head, “You already got the dark and grey, might as well finish the ensemble, don’t you think?” She flirted, leaning back against the wall.

Before he could answer, the Carisi sisters filed out of the kitchen. Gina was first, sporting a rogue smirk on her lips. Carisi smiled at them as they exited one by one, leaning sideways to kiss his sisters goodnight. Before Teresa disappeared up the steps, she shot a withering look towards Jac; she knew then _for sure_ the eldest Carisi sibling _did not_ care for her.

Jac crossed her arms, “Your sister hates me.”

Sonny furrowed his brow, “Who?” He turned on his hip to see who had lingered on the steps, but his intuitive skills told him it could only be one: “Teresa?” Jac nodded bashfully, “Pay her no mind. Here,” he offered the pillow and blanket.

“Thank you,” she smiled, taking in her hands the offered objects and walking towards the dimly lit living area. She sat everything down atop her other bundle of comforters and sleeping bag and turned, tucking her hair behind her ear, “Thank you for having me, Sonny. It’s been really fun,” she smiled, shuffling her feet in nervousness, “Good night.”

Sonny gave his signature wry smile and turned, “Down for a nightcap?” Jac glanced around as if to say, ‘ _Where?_ ’ and Sonny shook his head, “Upstairs, in my room. We’ll have to be really quiet, you know,” he leaned in, close to her ear, “If my mother finds out I have a girl in my room, she’ll have a coronary.”

Jac giggled and shoved him playfully, “Fine, but just know this, my mother raised a lady,” she finished playfully, turning her nose upright and sidestepping him.

They met again at the bottom of the stairs and for a second they didn’t know what to do. They both knew that if they took the stairs together, the family—especially the sisters—would have a field day in the morning. And, Jac already had strong suspicions that Teresa despised her, she wasn’t going to add any fuel to that fire, but thankfully, these two were clever children. They both had graduated with their law degrees after all, so when Sonny smirked at Jac and Jac smiled back in response, watching as Sonny turned to face the wall, they knew then that they had had the same idea.

“Here, jump on my back,” Sonny coaxed.

Jac did as she was told and with a quick hop, she was straddling Sonny’s hips. She leaned in, feeling his back muscles contort and move as he began to take the steps. His fingers were wrapped around her knees, providing a sense of security to her. She didn’t think for a second that the detective would drop her, but he didn’t know that. Her arms were draped around his neck, and she leaned forward, resting her cheek against the inside of her arm to stare at the beautiful profile of the man below her. His bottom lip was caught between his teeth in concentration, but his forehead was relaxed. She was thankful that Sonny could handle the weight and height of her. She wasn’t big per se, but she had gained a few extra pounds since she’d been in high school, and it was all distributed beautifully through her stomach, bottom, and thighs.

Sonny reached his room and he let go of her knee momentarily, the cool air rapidly clinging to the warmth that he had left behind on her skin. He opened his door and crossed into the dark room, closing it behind him. He blindly searched the wall immediately to the right of his door for his light switch, and when he switched it on, Jac could admire what type of teenager Sonny Carisi had been. 

He had music and hockey posters decorating his walls, a few little league trophies spread out, and comic books in his shelves. It was tidy-ish, after all it did belong to him, and in the middle of his bed was his daughter, sprawled out as if she owned the entirety of it. Jac giggled in his ear and he shuddered, removing his hands from her body.

Jac brazed herself on his shoulders and lowered her legs, safely landing on the ground, “Hope I didn’t herniate your discs,” she said softly.

Sonny turned, shaking his head, and pulling a baseball shaped beanbag towards Jac, “Don’t be ridiculous,” he scolded.

Jac plopped down, feeling the beans move to accommodate her weight, “I’m just making sure. I do need all of my detectives in order to keep Manhattan safe.”

He snickered, scuffling on the bedside table for something. Jac watched as the fabric of his shirt smoothened against his shoulder blades as he searched in his drawers, and when he turned he revealed complimentary bottles of booze. Jac feigned surprisingness at the slight admission of Sonny hiding booze in his room. She took the two bottles of vodka he was offering as he sat on the bed just across of her.

“Do you think any less of me because I’m petrified of my mother?” he quipped.

She shook her head, smiling, “No, I’m in awe of your daring and bravado,” she finished, laughing in unison with the blonde man.

Sonny glanced behind him to regard his slumbering daughter, “Tell me something about yourself that no one knows.”

Jac quirked an eyebrow, “Are we sharing secrets now, Detective?” Sonny smirked in response and Jac sighed, “I’m really not as tough as I make myself seem.”

“I could’ve told you that,” Sonny countered, taking a sip of his chosen liquor, “Come on, Jac, it’s just us.”

 _Just us, eh? Fine!_ “I had a major crush on the judge I was clerking with, and I came close, _really_ close to sleeping with him,” she sighed, “He’s married,” she whispered, chucking back a huge gulp of vodka.

“Wow,” Sonny exclaimed, looking at the disappointment and shame etched across the woman’s features. He really didn’t think of her as the type to sleep around to get ahead, and he would’ve been shocked had she said that she actually went forward with it, but Jac was a woman of morals and values, _that_ much he could tell. “He must’ve been quite something then, huh?”

Jac smirked, glancing at him sideways, “He is,” she answered simply, “With an apparent knack for seducing and bedding young clerks. I was young, not stupid.”

“Why come so close then?”

She shrugged a shoulder, “Just to prove that _I_ was the one that wanted it, not the other way around,” she danced the neck of her bottle on her lip, seemingly lost in thought momentarily before she proceeded to ask Sonny a follow-up question, “What about you? Tell me something I don’t already know; had fun at confessional?”

Sonny sputtered and coughed violently at the sting and burn the liquor awarded his throat. Of course she’d seen that, nothing went past the ever-clever attorney. She bit her lip triumphantly, having him just where she had wanted him, “You saw that?” She offered a brief nod and he sighed, “I don’t think I have any secrets, Jac.”

“Everyone has something to hide, Sonny.”

He shook his head, gauging her every reaction. 

He really didn’t have anything to hide. His sexuality was known and public, everyone knew he was an emotional wreck, and everyone knew that he wore his emotions on his sleeves. 

_You do have a secret, Sonny_ , a voice deep within his brain reminded him. 

He averted his eyes and stared at a random spot ahead, he couldn’t admit to that. He couldn’t even believe his subconscious was admitting to it. It hadn’t been a year since Rafael’s departure and here he was, crushing on his coworker, his heart barely giving him a chance to acclimate to the change. He sighed, feeling Fabi stir on the bed, and he turned, watching his daughter sleep when he caught sight of Jac shifting her gaze from his face to the stirring girl below the sheets.

“She could literally sleep through a storm,” Sonny scoffed, shaking his head.

Jac smiled, watching as the man gawked at his child. He really was a beautiful human being—inside and out. How could she not have noticed before? 

_Well, you **did** notice before, Jac! _

She huffed, scolding her self for her lack of tact when it came to Sonny. She really had struck a nerve with the comment made at dinner, but she couldn’t help her self. Teresa could be mad all she wanted, but if Sonny hadn’t said anything to her about it then that meant that he was completely fine with it, right? 

_He did just bring it up, Jacqueline_. 

She shook her head, here she was, trying to make a living out of counseling survivors, attempting to get them to open up and be comfortable with her yet she couldn’t—or rather wouldn’t—bring herself to ask Sonny if she had made him uncomfortable with said comment.

It was mortifying to say the least, the way she had compared him with a piece of raw meat. No wonder Teresa was so upset! She would be too if some random stranger that her brother had invited home sat at the dining table and made such an offensive comment towards him.

She mewled when she heard Sonny call out for her, “Hey, a—are you all right? You look like you’re going to be sick there.”

He stood, standing just a foot from the beanbag. She looked up at the towering man above her, and ironically, she felt small, “D—Did I offend you when I made the steak comment?”

Sonny smirked, “No, and I told you to not pay attention to Teresa. She’s just being a big sister.”

Jac nodded absentmindedly. Teresa hadn’t said anything about the steak comment, had she? At least not in front of her, “B—But you would have told me had I crossed a line, right?”

Her puppy dog eyes stared up at him and he scoffed, shaking his head, “Yea,” he said softly, extending his hand for her to take, “Come on, you look like you could pass out at any moment.”

Jac smiled, placing her hand in his. He was warm, clammy to a point, and Jac wondered for a second if he’d really been that nervous to have her in his room. She hopped on his back and made a comment about her weight, prompting Sonny to lean back in an attempt to shut her up, and she squealed, giggling jovially as she clung to his shoulders. 

Sonny felt it. 

Sonny felt it all: the rumble of her chest with her laughter, the tight hold her thighs had on his hips, her deft hands against his chest, and her soft vodka-infused breath against his cheek. 

Oh, he was a losing man. 

And then she chided him, utilizing his Christian name just as her nose barely kissed the reddening skin of his neck. It was there briefly, but he had felt it nonetheless…

Oh, he was a losing man…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say thank you for reading--continuing to read--this. I enjoy seeing kudos being left and the reading count grow. I appreciate all the support, honestly.


	8. Late Night Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Progress, or is it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a filler to lead into what's coming next.

Stakeouts, oh how the team hated them, but they were a necessary part of their occupation, especially at SVU. 

How many times had Benson sat in a cold car, in the middle of December waiting for a perp to show in order for them to make a move? How many times had Rollins played a honey for a trap? How many times had Fin gone UC in order to protect his squad mates? And, how many times had Sonny been infiltrated somewhere in order to gain intel from a different perspective than the one they currently had? 

They hated it, but they did it anyways. They were long days, even longer nights, tension ran high, and just when they thought they were fixing to go home, here the perp came, walking down his street without a care for the world, dragging another possible victim behind them.

It’s when you needed to act quick, but with caution. The last thing you wanted was to fuck up your stint. More often than not, these were final attempts on trying to apprehend their suspect after having searched sky, sea, and land. But they were used to giving the extra mile for their victims and survivors. Nothing stood in their way when it was about justice. 

They were all equally as barbarous and tireless, and some cases would hit harder for one of them more than the rest of them, but that didn’t mean the others cared less, quite the opposite. Seeing one of their coworkers so vested and focused to catch the guy, to get justice for the survivor, to bring peace of mind to a family or a loved one would only serve as fuel to the fire deep within their body, and as they worked one case, another one piled on.

Here they were, sitting outside a residential building in Murray Hill, keeping tabs on their newest and most promising suspect, Leon Bibb (or DB as he was known in the streets). It hadn’t been easy tracking him down, and Ginny and Raymond’s mother had been a tough nut to crack, but after a little bit of prodding, some guilt-tripping by Jac and Rollins, she had given him up, providing addresses and names to his gang of traffickers. He targeted mothers with kids, specifically mothers of tweens and teens. He sold them a good life, one of comfort, and luxury, but just like others had forgotten to read the fine print so had Decca.

She never knew that accepting his clothes, food, rent and utility money would come at a price. At first, she had been reluctant, taking the johns all by herself in order to save her children, but after a couple of months of being strung high on cocaine and meth daily, causing her hours to blend with the days, and her days with her weeks and months, it was a miracle DB hadn’t gotten to Ginny and Raymond sooner than those three months. 

Amanda cringed and felt her bile at work in her stomach as she went over the details once more. Her thumb fidgeted with the edge of the file on her lap, creating a rhythmic pop akin to the moving hand on her wristwatch. She sighed, lifting her gaze to the sidewalk across from her, and then to all three of her rearview mirrors when she caught sight of her surveillance partner.

The door popped and in slid Sonny, holding between his teeth a bag of pepperoncini chips, two coffees, and some packaged pastries in his hands, “Took you long enough,” Amanda scoffed, taking the offered cup of coffee, “Where the hell was this deli, anyways?”

Sonny placed his coffee in his cup holder, grabbing his bag of chips and opening it, “Three blocks away,” he gestured with his head, “There was a bodega around the corner, but they didn’t have the chips.”

Amanda rolled her eyes, shaking her head in the process when the overpowering smell of Sonny’s pepperoncini chips wafted through the cabin, “What the _hell_ is in those? It smells like my mother’s kitchen.”

Sonny snorted, fishing inside the bag for a chip, “Jac likes them,” he mumbled underneath his breath.

Amanda fidgeted with her coffee lid tab, smirking as she heard the admission fall from his lips, “Jac, huh?”

Sonny choked, coughing mercilessly as Amanda laughed, making sure her eyes never deterred from the prize across the street. Sonny sipped his coffee, attempting to clear his throat from the scratch of the offending chip. How could he have been so careless and let that slip out? He bit his lip, attempting to hide his smile. The only reason he had bought the chips in the first place was because Jac had bought the wrong bag a couple of weeks back. If it weren’t for her, he wouldn’t have known of their existence.

“You’ve been hanging out with Jac a lot lately,” she tried.

Sonny smirked, turning his face to look out the car window, “You’re fishing, Rollins.”

Amanda scoffed, biting her lip, and nodding slightly. She had noticed how his demeanor had changed and she feared for the man’s mental wellbeing, now that the anniversary for Barba’s departure was fast approaching. She knew how much Olivia had fidgeted, had worried for Noah, and Jesse, and subconsciously for Sonny too.

Amanda was fixing to reply to his comment when Sonny beat her to the punch, “Hey, hey, heads up. We’ve got movement.”

Rollins placed her cup in her holder, straightening herself on her seat. They both watched as two black SUVs pulled up in front of the watched unit. Doors opened on the first one and out came three women, barely dressed in clothes, and one of them was hauling what looked like a tween boy behind her. 

Amanda looked at Sonny, gauging his expression. The man had been grinding his teeth; chewing at his nail bed when out of the second SUV stepped out DB with his dogs, meeting the women at the end of the stoop. They watched the interaction carefully, from what Rollins and Carisi could see, none of these women looked to be there willingly.

“Call Liv?” Sonny asked lowly.

“On it,” Rollins replied with a nod of her head.

She called her lover and commanding officer; she knew she’d be awake and waiting at the house with Fin. Even after Rollins had begged her to head home and get sleep, she’d insisted on staying behind and watching the stint through. 

Sonny listened as Amanda brought their Lieutenant up to speed on what had transpired in the short minutes they’d been watching the interaction outside of the unit. He tapped her on the shoulder, mumbling a faint ‘son of a bitch’ when he saw his hand connect with the face of one of the women on the sidewalk. He felt fingers around his wrist, and he glanced down at his arm and up at Rollins’ face to see her shake her head in disapproval. She could anticipate his moves before he had even finished processing the thought himself.

“We have to go pay a visit to Jac,” Amanda said, utilizing her left hand to end the call. Her right hand was resting easily, but firmly on Carisi’s wrist.

“What? Now?” Carisi shouted.

Amanda gave a clipped nod, “We have to wait ‘til they clear out, and Liv is sending some unis to man post whilst we go wake up our ADA.”

Sonny nodded, turning to watch as DB returned to his SUV, leaving his dogs to handle the women and child on the street. 

He was livid, fuming, especially with the subject matter of the case and the entirety of the squad being parents of mostly children that required their complete devotion and attention. Sonny, much like Amanda, had been seething once they’d found the mother, and though she was as much of a victim in this as her children, they’d been forced to press charges against her. 

He was conflicted. 

On one hand he wanted justice for Ginny and Raymond, and he knew that Decca was as guilty as DB in this as her, but on the other hand, Sonny felt for her. She’d only done what a mother was to do for her children: provide.

He huffed, scrubbing his face with his hands for the umpteenth time since he had been sat in the cold car with Rollins. The city moved outside his window, and that’s when he noticed they had begun moving, “Call dispatch and ask for Jac’s address.”

“I—I know where she lives,” Sonny responded quietly. 

Amanda raised her brow; smirking in the process, “Do you, now?”

“Rollins,” he shook his head, hiding his amusement, “I’ve taken her home after a night out.”

“Sure you have,” Amanda offered, chuckling.

Sonny grinned, hiding his face against the window as he mumbled Jac’s address by heart. 

Only in his dreams had he seen the inside of Jac’s dwelling. The most he’d seen had been her door, and though he could find his way to that door on the eleventh floor of the Central Park West apartment building, he wouldn’t admit that to Rollins. 

He directed her through the empty streets of Manhattan, and they found a spot in front of the building. Amanda cocked an eyebrow, smirking at the tall man when he greeted the man he knew lived on Jac’s floor. Sonny rolled his eyes and bit his lip, punching Jac’s floor number in the elevator, and when they reached her door, she shoved her hands in her pockets, shrugging for Sonny to knock.

A little bit of shuffling and muffled scuffling and the door swung open, she ran her fingers through her hair, “S—Sonny, w—what happened to the stakeout? D—Did something go wrong?”

Amanda shook her head, appearing next to Sonny, “We need a warrant, Jac.”

Jac yawned, stepping aside, “Jesus, it’s too late for arguing, Rollins.”

Rollins snorted, “You argue for a living, what’s a little side hustling going to do, eh?”

Jac shook her head, signaling for them to sit, “What happened to ‘we’re just sitting on him’, huh?”

The pair went on explaining what had happened in front of the unit in Murray Hill, from the SUVs, to the bodyguards, to the women in their barely clothing, and the child that was cold and barefooted. 

Jac argued on a family connection—ridiculous, but proving cause. They were getting loud and rattled at that ungodly hour, emotions running high after attempting to reason with a sleepy—and annoyed—Jac. Sonny paced her living room, huffing and puffing at her stubbornness and constant repetition on how it wasn’t enough for a warrant. 

They needed more, Jac had made that more than clear, but neither of them was hearing it. 

Jac sighed, rubbing her temples, “Financials, that’s _all_ you get. Get me more and we can discuss other measures, all right?”


	9. Aglossia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team and Jac are really feeling the heat of this case. Carisi tries his shot at front-stabbing, and Jac receives quite the surprise.

“Get Jac down here, now,” commanded Benson to her subordinates. 

Whoever was lucky enough to reach the phone first got to deliver the news to her; the news of them having possibly found a witness to the acts committed on the late hours of the night in a back way alley on the Lower East Side in Manhattan. A witness who not only saw what had happened from beginning to end, but a witness who had seen who’d done it as well. A witness that nearly took two months to come forward, but a witness that was here, scared beyond measure, sleepless, and paranoid.

Now the question was, would he be credible? 

He sat in the interview room, pulling at the hoodie’s sleeves, rocking slowly, and shuffling his feet. 

He was cold, hungry, and tired. 

He had shown up to the precinct in the middle of a scuffle over what else could they bring to Jac in order to justify another warrant. The financials had turned up significant dubious transactions and accounts, but nothing that they could prove was linked to a trafficking ring. Leon had been smart, too smart, but the team wouldn’t give up. They were determined, ready for the fight of their lives, and they wouldn’t let up just because.

“She’s on her way, Liv,” Fin said from his desk.

Olivia sighed, nodding, “Can we corroborate his story, guys?”

Amanda bowed her head, “I mean, he’s giving us details that are _in_ the M. E.’s report. Details that weren’t published or discussed with the media. He’s got the time of death right, and he’s confirmed our suspicions: they cleaned up the crime scene by taking everything with them. There’s no way he could be making this up, Liv.”

“Yea, but is he going to be credible and reliable enough for Jac to put him on the stand?” Carisi intervened, “Will he even testify? That kid is scared out of his mind, Lieu.”

“Carisi—” Amanda tried.

“No, no, hear me out,” he interrupted, “How many times have we gone down this road, huh?” He glanced at Fin and Rollins, turning to face his commanding officer, “How many times have we locked in a witness just for them to turn up missing or, or, or dead the day of the trial? I want this guy… bad.”

“And, I hear you Carisi, but that’s just a chance we’re going to have to take,” Olivia lamented.

She knew he was right, and she knew the heartache that came with knowing that the person, who had broken their family, damaged it beyond repair was free, roaming the streets and possibly hurting other people _with_ the knowledge of the police. And, they couldn’t do anything about it, not without facing retaliation to the entire department because of ‘harassment’. 

It was horrible to watch the families deteriorate, watch them take matters into their own hands just because the justice system had failed them and now, they faced double the heartache. Not only were they trying to heal from having lost their sister or brother, mother, or loved one to the hands of a pimp, or a brutal rapist, but now the person they had turned to seek out the love and protection they were craving was sitting behind bars without remorse.

A life for a life: not always the greatest solution, but how it brought comfort to an addled mind… 

It was worse when younger kids were involved, but regardless, it never felt good. Not for them and definitely not for the family involved. In this case, they’d lost both children, and now the mother faced charges of her own. This wasn’t fair. It hadn’t been fair… for anyone, but they had to carry on, and knowing Carisi was right, she would argue with Jac on something being done in order to protect this young man from any form of repercussion on the street.

Olivia had retired to her office when the sudden click of heels echoed through the bullpen. She stood, approaching her door, “Counselor,” she addressed the tall woman clad in a long-sleeved black fitted dress with a white high collar and cuffs, “Can I see you in my office?”

Jac nodded, removing her coat and placing it over her arm. She quirked an eyebrow at Olivia’s sudden ‘business’ demeanor. It’s not that she was never… business when it came to cases, but she seemed more on edge than usual, and that never meant anything good. Jac sighed, placing everything over Olivia’s office chairs.

“Lieutenant, I presume this is of the utmost importance since Fin couldn’t even give me a smidge of information over the phone,” she cocked her hip, placing her hand over the back of the chair.

Olivia sighed, propping her elbows on her desk, “We have an eye witness for the Macarty case.” Jac cocked an eyebrow, “You’re not going to like it.”

“Why is that, Lieutenant? Are they not credible?”

Olivia scoffed ruefully, “Oh, he’s credible,” she cocked her head, “Reliable? That’s another story.”

Jac placed her hands on her hips, “What are we talking about here, Olivia?”

“He’s a junky, Jac. A junky that had just finished shooting up and was riding his high when Leon Biggs was beating, raping, and murdering Ginny and Raymond Macarty.”

“And, you’ve called me here for what, Olivia; to tell me that we virtually have no chance with him? What was the point? I am not basing this entire case on the testimony of someone that may or may not be sober tomorrow,” Jac seethed, gesturing with her hands.

Olivia stood, “Don’t you think I know that, Counselor? But you owe it to those kids to hear this guy out.”

Jac scoffed, shaking her head, “I owe it to those kids? _I_ owe it to those kids?” They glared at each other, challenging the other fiercely, “What I owe to those kids is justice, _Lieutenant_ , and I intend on delivering it… as soon as your squad brings me something useful.”

Jac winced as the words left her lips. 

She hadn’t meant to dig at the efficiency of her team, let alone at their diligence. They had be nothing less than resilient when it came to working this case. They had sought her out, stretching the law to its thinnest thread, and bending it almost to the point of snapping it in half. She knew, the moment she took on this job, that when it came to sex crimes, the law worked differently. She had to find loopholes where they weren’t and re-learn on an entire new spectrum. The phrase ‘it’s a stretch’ _was_ a stretch when it came to working SVU. One had to stretch everything: help, the law, the findings… nothing was ever enough, there was always room for more, but not necessarily the _time_.

She sighed once she saw Benson’s amused grin. She raised her hand; closing her eyes, “Don’t… say it. I know how out of line that sounded,” she opened her eyes, lowering her hand, “You take his statement?”

Olivia ran her fingers through her hair, “Not officially, no. Fin and Rollins were the ones who spoke to him first.”

Jac turned to face the open blinds of Benson’s office, chancing a peek at Fin and Rollins at their desks, “What’s their take on this?”

She chewed on her bottom lip whilst waiting for Olivia’s response, “Fin worked Narcotics before he started SVU, he has his… concerns, but,” Olivia sighed, “we want this guy, Jac.”

“And, Rollins?” she turned to face the brunette.

Olivia ducked her head, “She’s siding with Fin,” she paused for effect, “Nothing new there.”

Jac tapped the toe of her sandal heel, “And, Carisi?” she said whilst looking up.

Olivia smirked, nodding, “He doesn’t want us to use him as primary witness, but he’s the best we got, Jac.”

Jac nodded, “Yea,” she patted her thumb against her thigh and sighed, “Well, lead the way, Lieutenant.”

Olivia lifted her arm, signaling to the adjoining door that gave access to the interview room from her office. They stepped through, watching as the boy’s hand shook incessantly on his lap. Jac looked at Olivia, frowning in the process. Olivia was at a loss, she sighed and entered the room, using long powerful strides to sit across from the boy.

“Jason, my name’s Lt. Olivia Benson. Can I get you anything?”

Jason shook his head, averting his eyes, but not before catching Jac’s silhouette by the door, “W—Who’s her?”

“My name’s Jacqueline Cruz, I’m an Assistant District Attorney. The Lieutenant has informed me that you may have valuable information about Ginny and Raymond Macarty,” she said, moving across the room to sit opposite from Olivia.

Jason nodded, “Y—Yea, yea,” he tugged at his sleeves, clearing his throat, “I was, uh…”

Jac glanced sideways at Olivia, “I know about your… preferences, Jason. I don’t care about that, neither does SVU; we care about what you saw. So, _what_ did you see?”

Jason cleared his throat, “I was getting my fix, and I heard a noise—like as if someone was getting beat up. I r—rounded the corner and saw them, beating up Ray, telling him that for every dollar he was owed, he would continue to fuck Ginny.”

Jac fidgeted with her fingers, closing her hand into a fist, “Who is ‘them’, Jason?”

Jason looked up at the mention of his name, “DB and his guys,” he looked at Olivia, “It was two of them: one was holding Ray and the other was beating him up.”

“And, where was DB?” Olivia asked, rolling the chair closer to the table.

“H—He was,” Jason looked down at his lap, tugging at the sleeves of his hoodie. He looked sheepish, almost scared to admit what he had witnessed, “He was h—having sex with Ginny.”

Jac tapped her nail against the wood of the table, attempting to formulate her next question, “What happened next?”

Jason scratched at his neck, licking his lips in tandem, “He… finished and threw Ginny on the ground and began k—kicking and s—stomping her,” he frowned, sniffling quietly, “Then he got his gun and shot her twice.”

“And then?” asked Olivia, glancing at Jac, “You’re doing great, sweetheart. Take your time.”

He nodded, using his sleeve to wipe at his nose, “They beat Ray some more, all three of ‘em taking turns, and when they got tired, DB popped one in him. He, uh, he told his guys to clean up everything, and he left first.”

Jac nodded, straightening her body on the chair, “What did they take with them?”

“Gloves, the little sock things that they use in hospitals… I think they took the bullet things, and, uh, some of their clothes.”

Benson and Jac locked eyes; they knew he couldn’t have been making this up. The media had only reported that items from the crime scene seemed missing and/or altered, but they never released what those items were. Jac scratched her brow, shaking her head; there was something else she needed to know.

“Jason, where were you hiding? And, are you willing to testify this in open court?”

“I was hiding behind a dumpster, leaning against a wall. A—And, court?” He leaned forward, looking at the women, “No, no, I can’t go to court. I’ll be killed! D—Do you have _any_ idea what will happen to me if anyone finds out I was here today? No.”

“We can protect you, Jason,” Olivia attempted to soothe, but Jason was already on his feet, scrambling to leave.

“Jason, please,” Jac pleaded, coming to her feet, “You’re the only one that can help us. Y—You _knew_ Ginny and Raymond, didn’t you?”

Jason stopped short from the door, hanging his head, and turning slowly. His eyes shone bright with the threat of impeding tears, “Y—Yea, I met Ray at the pier. It’s where we w—went to try and find our fix.”

“And, don’t you want justice for him and Ginny? It’s why you came here today, isn’t it?” Jac tried.

He shifted on his feet; “I can’t even get a fix without seeing them l—lying there…”

“Then help us,” Olivia pushed, “Help us bring DB to justice. You’re the only one who can do it, Jason.”

It seemed as if hours coursed by without a response from the shaken man-child that stood in front of the women. 

What else could they do? 

They had exhausted all of their possibilities, debated every argument, and now, the decision was Jason’s to make. They couldn’t push him any longer, they would never force him, either, but they could try and convince him. Make him see that he could trust them; make him believe that they were more than able to provide protection. He swayed, barely able to hold his self up, but determined to see this through he nodded, allowing the women to guide him back to the chair he had previously occupy.

“Record his official statement, by the book. I have some phone calls I need to make to ensure his safety,” Jac spoke quickly, “And, Olivia, pick him up.”

The older brunette nodded, hiding her smirking face as she directed Rollins to search for the camera. Jac stepped out of the interrogation room through the adjoining door to Olivia’s office. She searched her purse, looking for her cellphone. If she wanted to make good on the promise they had made to Jason, she needed to get her dice rolling, sooner rather than later. She searched through when Carisi came busting in through Olivia’s office door.

“Hey, what’s going on in there?” he asked, stepping up to her.

She turned around, clutching her phone in her hands, “We’re taking his statement… officially.”

“What?” he growled, shifting his feet. Jac raised her brows, silently challenging the greying man in front of her. She placed her hands on her hips, furthering the challenge, “Y—You’re putting him on the stand?” Jac shrugged, turning her head briefly, “ _Him_? Really, Jac?”

“What else am I supposed to do, Sonny? No one wants to speak against this guy. Every single person you’ve interviewed has shut their door in your face. As much as I hate to admit this, Leon Biggs has this entire case in his hands,” she sighed, crossing her arms against her stomach.

“And, what? What happened to ‘never giving up’? Or is your ego still hurting from the Tracey case?”

Jac scoffed. 

That was a hit below the belt, a hit far too low, even for Carisi. The Tracey case had not only been a tough case for Jac, but it had been a particularly difficult one for the team. Morgan Tracey, forty-six, three kids, and married for sixteen years to a low-life bastard by the name of Lorenzo Tracey. They met when Morgan first moved to the city at the age of twenty. They had dated briefly, but she had soon put an end to the relationship after noticing the ‘mean streak’ he possessed. Eight years later, they rekindled, began going out, and after three years of dating they married and soon begun expanding their brood.

She claimed him a changed man, more daring, and self-confident, but that all changed the night of their fifth anniversary. 

Where had time gone? 

How had she let time slip her by like that? 

Who’s wrath had she encountered to have woken up with a mutilated face, a dejected body, and an indescribable pain in her soul? 

Her husband. 

She didn’t even remember what brought forth such anger, but she’d learn after that, it didn’t take much for him to use her as contender in a fight she was not allowed to defend herself. It saddened her, and it infuriated her eldest daughter, Gillian Tracey. She’d been the one to call the authorities after a brutal beating towards her mother, and had Morgan not feared her husband, not feared losing her daughters, her home, and everything she had worked so hard to have: she would’ve left.

But, she chose to stay. Chose not to press charges. Chose to continue covering the abuse. Chose to keep hurting in silence. Chose her abuser. And she paid the price. 

Three weeks later, Gillian called Olivia, telling her that her mother was in the hospital, damn near fighting for her life after having had an encounter with her fathers fists, his feet, the glass table on the foyer, and the stairs of their brownstone stoop. She passed six days later from severe internal hemorrhaging and brain damage. The team had arrested and prosecuted Lorenzo, but failure to prove that he had—in fact—murdered his wife after ten years of continuous abuse, and lack of evidence that proved such abuse, Lorenzo had ended up a free man.

Jac had beaten herself up. She was dealing with the Macarty siblings, two other cases, and now this? To say her ego and heart had taken a severe blow had been an understatement, but she found a way to right her so-called wrong. Gillian was old enough now to present a case of her own in family court, and Jac was with her every step of the way. Thanks to Gillian’s testimony, Olivia’s connections with family attorneys, and her never-ending fire, she had gotten Morgan’s sister Emily custody of the girls. They were now living with their maternal aunt in Virginia, away from their father’s abusive streak.

Sonny, more than anyone else on the team knew how hard that case had been for Jac, why bring it up all again?

She tightened her jaw and shot Carisi a pointed look, “Uncalled for, Detective.”

“And, this isn’t?” Jac shook her head, moving around the office collecting her items, “Jac, you better than anyone know how unreliable these type of witnesses are! What are we going to do when Defense finds out his name? You know damn well they’re going to find him, and they _will_ shut him up.”

“You let me worry about that, _Detective_ ,” she said with conviction.

Carisi scoffed, following the quick steps of the woman, “That’s grand!”

Jac turned in a whip, “You know, Carisi, you’ve been giving me a lot of lip and I’ve yet to hear a solution to this… _problem_ from you.”

Sonny opened his mouth to defend his point of view, but he’d been whipped into the now by her words. They truly had nothing else, but he had held out hope that Jac would shut this ridiculous idea down and side with him on this matter; he’d been wrong. He clamped his mouth shut and stared at the withering look Jac was giving him.

There was that color that he had come so accustomed to in her eyes: the salt-water taffy brown. Her brow was pulled in, and she waited for him to react, but he’d been momentarily stunned by her smoldering beauty. He enjoyed her anger. She would stop calling him Sonny and would start addressing him by his surname. He would smile, but he knew better than to do that.

Besides it all, Jac appreciated Sonny’s… gumption, but she wouldn’t give in, “I don’t like this anymore than you do, Carisi, but it’s our best bet.”

“Yea, but Jac we’re going out on a limb here. Can’t you subpoena some—”

“Sonny,” she growled, “If you don’t like it, find me someone else,” she turned around, leaving no room argument.

She had more pressing matters to deal with at the moment, but she couldn’t deny that she loved how deep those steely eyes had turned at the sight of annoyance. She pinched her lips together, burying deep within her the desire she felt towards the tall man. All she wanted to feel at the moment was contempt, and there would be no room for anything else. She wouldn’t allow for it. Her anger would win, just so that she could see this case through. She was angry for the Macarty siblings, she was angry at their mother, she was angry at the pimp, fuming at the hold Leon Biggs had on the neighboring tenants, vexed at their incapability to come forward and claim justice for the young lives that’d been lost.

Her indignation led her to her home, and as she found her way there, she made a lot of calls. It was a short ride, from the precinct to her apartment, but she was a woman on a mission, a mission she would not let fail. She called many a friend and consulted many a law journal, but in the end she had the argument she wanted and needed in order to take this in front of a judge. It wasn’t going to be a walk in the park—nothing ever was when it came to SVU—but she would tread through the most unwavering waters just to keep her star witness safe.

“ _It is not normally possible to give evidence **anonymously** when you are examined in court…_”

She continued reading. She needed as much information as possible in order to argue _any_ argument a judge or Defense attorney could have. She could already hear the Defense attorney in Judge’s chambers citing the Sixth Amendment of the US Constitution, which holds that the accused has a right to face witnesses against them during a trial. And, she knew that requirement outlawed any anonymous witnesses, and she could _hear_ Biggs’ defense lawyer wonder how they could possibly test the credibility of people whose identity remained a mystery.

But, if she’d learned anything whilst working private practice those two years after graduating was that even the Constitution had its loopholes. She had her answer and comeback; she sniggered in the silence of her home, pacing to her kitchen to fill her watering can. She bit her lip, going over it not once or twice but three times, making sure she had every word right where it belonged, making sure her sentence-building was correct, and that her words—when delivered—declared as much conviction as she had when stacking them together.

She floated through her home, glancing at the wall that held her clock in place. If the team had been successful—which she had no doubt of—they should’ve apprehended Leon Biggs and they should’ve finished with Jason’s statement. Benson had let her known as much: Jason was back in his building with unis manned on the outside. 

She sauntered through her apartment, sticking her finger in the soil of her plants, pushing until two inches of her pointer were covered in buried near the roots. If they needed the water, she used her left hand to tilt the heavy can, making sure they were thoroughly watered. 

She kept going over her findings, rethinking and replaying the facts of the case. She reached one of her peperomias, and this strain in particular carried the name of ‘Ginny’. She smiled sadly, she would not be able to look at her plant anymore and not be remembered of the girl. She sighed, shaking her head and ridding her mind of any culpability that roamed around.

“ _In some situations, the court may also decide that the defendant cannot be present in the courtroom while they give evidence._ ”

She mumbled underneath her breath, remembering her words. She always did this going over her opening statement and closing arguments. She would pace her living room with a coffee mug, making sure she had memorized every question, brushing up on her case law until the day of the trial.

“ _In that case, the defendant will either sit in another room where he or she can hear the testimony, or the statement would be read aloud to the defendant when the witness has finished testifying._ ”

Time seemed to slip through her fingertips, but the loud and offending bang against her door seem to not only get louder, but desperate. She stood, pacing calmly through her living room to reach the door, and once she looked through the peephole, she smiled: it was Sherman, her doorman. She expected a full grin from the man, but he seemed… frightened, almost to the point of a coronary, and he just shoved a small package—barely the size of her phone—into her hands and left, leaving no room for words to be exchanged. She called out to him, but the man that had seen his better years had already made it to the elevators.

“Weird,” she mumbled, using her foot to close her door, and her bottom to shut it close.

She pulled at the paper, tearing it to reveal a small box. She furrowed her brow, who could’ve sent this? 

What the hell was it? 

She shrugged, holding the torn piece of paper with her thumb as she fumbled with the lid of the box, and once she opened she gasped loudly, letting the box drop to her floor. 

Who would play such a sick joke on her? 

_Why_ would anyone play such a joke on her? 

She backed away rapidly, not wanting to take her eyes away from the box now discarded on her floor, and she fumbled for her phone. This wasn’t a joke. This was why Sherman looked so… mortified.

“ _SVU, Carisi_ ,” answered the man on the other side.

Jac shuddered, “I need you… _all_ of you. Now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those who've stuck it out with me. I know a lot of you wanted Barisi, but this was a request. Thank you once more for giving it a chance, I'll try not to disappoint. :)


	10. Ankyloglossia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We figure out what happened on the previous chapter. And we hear a confession from our favorite blonde...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to extend a special thanks to someone that helped with the ending of this chapter. I've been a little stuck, but her suggestion was a welcomed and fitting one. You know who you are, just wanted to make it official! Oh, and to the other special someone that puts up with my ramblings and ideas, you're a Godsend!

A tongue. 

That’s what Sherman had shoved into Jac’s hands; a fresh, recently severed tongue. Now the question loomed over the squad and their DA, who’s was it and who’d done it? Jac sat on her small dining set, one leg bouncing, and the other stretched in front of her. Her left hand was steady on her stomach, rising and falling with the movements of her belly, and the other still clutched the wrapping paper used to present that… _gift_ to her.

Olivia stood in front of her, waving her hands incessantly. Amanda had disappeared with Fin to speak to Sherman and possibly get all security footage of the building’s outside and main lobby. And, Sonny… well Sonny argued with his lieutenant about God knows what.

 _This is a warning, Jac, and you know it,_ her thoughts betrayed her, but she couldn’t shut up that voice in her head, not when she was trying to make sense of it all with it. _They know where you **live**._

 _Maybe, I should drop the case,_ Jac shook her head, _No, what am I saying? I can’t drop this case. That’s what they want. I must persist. I have to. For Ginny and Raymond._

She jumped, banging her ribs against the table when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked up, to see a stunned, but apologetic Olivia with her hands held up in defense, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you there, but you weren’t answering us.”

She huffed, shaking her head, and running her hands down her face, “No, no. I’m sorry, w—what was it that you asked?”

Benson looked over her shoulder to Carisi and back at her ADA, “I said, did you stop anywhere on your way here?”

Jac shook her head, “No, I left the precinct and came straight here. So, unless they followed me from there…”

Amanda opened the door to Jac’s dwelling, sending the woman on the chair flying up with a gasp, “Easy there,” Amanda soothed, using her hands to prove she meant no harm.

Jac shook her head. 

She couldn’t go about this any longer without feeling like a complete incompetent imbecile. She had a job to do, and she’d be damned if some thug would scare her into silence. She was tougher than this, strong, and irrepressible; she had to see this case through. She wouldn’t rest until she found justice for the Macarty siblings, for their mother, for everyone who had crossed paths with DB, and for whomever that severed tongue belonged to.

She shuddered, taking in a shaky a breath. Carisi approached her, extending his arm in front of him, but she took several steps back, avoiding his touch, “I’m fine.”

Before Sonny could voice his concerns, she had already disappeared down her hallway, shutting the door to what Sonny could hope was her bathroom. He stared at the dark hallway, thinking of a way he could try and put her mind at ease. She was already wretched about everything that was happening, and he had added to her stress by trying an approach he seldom took: front stabbing. A little radical candor if you will. He hadn’t meant for the comment about the Tracy case to land so harshly upon her, but she needed to see the bigger picture here. Sonny was just trying to prevent _this_ from happening.

He sighed, scrubbing his face with his hands, “What the hell are we supposed to do now?”

“What’s up with him?” Amanda questioned, approaching Benson.

Olivia sighed, turning on her hip, “Never mind that, how are we doing with the footage?”

Rollins shook her head, “Either they got to the doorman really good or our luck is just shit.”

Olivia huffed, turning, “Great.” She lifted her arm, pointing at the hallway where Jac had disappeared through momentarily, “She—She’s not right.”

“I saw,” Amanda commented.

“I told her this would happen. I told _you_ this would happen, Lieu,” Carisi mumbled, pacing through the area.

“I know that, Carisi. Can you just—just…” she gesticulated, swallowing hard.

She was more than aware of the conversation they had had back at the precinct, and though he wasn’t rubbing it in her face, he sure as hell was making her second guess the decision she had previously made. Not only was Jac in danger now, but they could be too. Though, why target _just_ the prosecutor? 

Why not go after the detectives that were behind this? 

There had to be a reason as to why they had come to Jac first. Was it because she was the easier target? 

Or, was it just simply because they knew that if they scared her enough the case would go nowhere? 

The squad could investigate all they wanted to, but if they didn’t find anyone to push forward the charges and _prosecute_ , they were free to do as they pleased.

It’s not that she was the easier choice; it was because she was the _smarter_ choice. Why injure the hands of the operation when you could cut off the legs and call it a day? 

Olivia scoffed. 

They knew with whom they were dealing with and they had an idea of who was behind it all, but could they prove it? No, they couldn’t, because the footage had been erased and the doorman wasn’t talking. Why would he? If he had family, he knew better than to speak wrongfully about what had happened just minutes before their arrival. 

This was going to be tough, but tough is what they did. They had no choice.

“We could pull pole cam footage, see if we can get something outside of the precinct, and follow her from there,” Rollins shrugged.

“If they were bold enough to follow her from the precinct, they were _smart_ enough to cover themselves,” Carisi countered.

“Not really helping there, Carisi. I’m usually the pessimist,” she said in jest, hoping to lighten the mood.

Carisi shot her a withering look, “Yea, well I’m sorry I’m in no mood for jokes, Rollins.”

Amanda raised her hands in front of her, sidestepping Olivia to sit on Jac’s couch, “Read the room,” she said underneath her breath, “So, what’s our course of action then?”

“We all know who’s behind this, guys,” Olivia begun, “How do we prove it? We can pull security footage starting at the precinct like Rollins said, try and see if we can follow her from there. Do we know if she took the subway?”

“She was close enough, that could be a possibility,” Carisi looked at Olivia, “I think we should talk to Jac, Lieu.”

Olivia furrowed her brow, “Talk to her about what?”

“A protective detail.”

Olivia glanced at Amanda, shock clearly etched in her face when: “I _hope_ you’re talking about the owner of that severed tongue.”

Jac had a new bite to her tone and it surprised everyone that she had managed to regain her composure so quickly after having been a jumpy mess not that long ago. They all stared at each other: Jac at Carisi, Carisi at his Lieutenant, Rollins at Jac, and Olivia at Rollins… They hadn’t counted on her rejoining them so quickly, not after excusing her self in such a hasty manner. Carisi most definitely hadn’t meant for her to overhear the suggestion, they would’ve had to discuss it with her first, but they were as surprised as she was when Carisi had so nonchalantly mentioned it.

He approached her, “No, I wasn’t.”

She scoffed, “I don’t need protective detail, Detective. I can take care of myself.”

Carisi chortled in amusement, “Really? Is that why you were so jumpy not that long ago?”

There it was again, the front stabbing. When had he gotten so… bold? “You’ve been taking a lot of digs at me today, Carisi. I thought that maybe all the sulking would’ve tired you out… apparently not.”

Carisi took a breath in, going to protest when Olivia beat him to the punch, “Come on, Jac. It’s for your own safety. These guys know where you live. They got to your doorman!”

Jac glared at the Lieutenant. That was the last thing she wanted to hear right now. She didn’t want to think that because of her, someone else’s life could possibly be in danger, “I am _not_ going to be scared into silence, Lieutenant.”

“This isn’t about you anymore, Jac,” Olivia said, emphasizing with hands, “There’s a man downstairs _scared_ beyond measure because he _knows_ what will happen him if he opens his mouth.”

Jac scoffed. 

Of course they’d picked up on how to have her submit. Benson knew how to appeal to Jac’s softer side; they’d been working together for some time now. It wouldn’t be hard to get her to accept, but still, she had to be objectionable. They would not be dealing with Jac if she didn’t have them jumping over some hurdles to get what they wanted.

She sighed, “Do we know who the tongue belongs to?”

Sonny huffed from somewhere in the apartment and Olivia shook her head, “We had one of the unis take it down to the lab. We should have the results at some point tonight or tomorrow.”

“You’re asking all the wrong questions here, Jac,” Sonny bit from behind her.

“That’s my job,” she responded in a temper, “I thought it was yours too.”

“That—That’s grand!”

“Come on, guys,” Rollins attempted to soothe, “We’re all trying our best here.”

“Yea, well, that’s not enough… apparently,” she jabbed.

“Jesus,” Sonny mumbled.

Jac pursed her lips, turning to pace the small area. 

Why was it so hard for Sonny to fathom that she did not want to be followed all day and night by either thugs or police personnel? She didn’t go anywhere anyways. Most of her days were spent at work or at the precinct, and when she wasn’t there, she was in her home, mulling and pining over cases. When she did go out it was with them—with _him_. She was already under their constant watch, the last thing she needed was to be escorted everywhere she needed to go, or worse, be a prisoner in her own home. She was about to give in when her phone rung out from somewhere atop her dining table.

Looking at the name on the screen told her everything she needed to know. If she hadn’t made up her mind about this protective detail by then, the decision was about to be made up for her. 

Who had called McCoy? How had he found out about this situation? She felt the device ring once more in her hand and she swiped her thumb across the screen, bringing her phone up to her ear. The voice was quick, sharp, and stern. She sighed, running her fingers through the front of her hair, she really didn’t have an option now. She assented, unwillingly, but she did so nonetheless. 

The protective detail had been set, starting as early as that night. The rules had been simple: she was not to leave her apartment or office without a proper escort and there would be a car manning post whilst she was at home. They had established a curfew for her on the weekends and the least amount of time she spent outside, the better. She would growl in frustration every time she wanted to stay and work longer from her office. She hated not being able to leave the office and pop up at the precinct when she felt too cooped up. She disliked not being able to stop for pastries in the morning, and it didn’t help that she always felt watched, rushed, and… babied.

“You’re up early, Counselor,” she heard Fin’s voice from behind her.

She groaned. 

It backfired, of course it did! She should’ve known better than to think she could one-up Fin. She had tried though and it seemed foolproof at first, but here she was, attempting to escape her apartment building an hour and a half before her scheduled pick-up. Whenever she would open her door, it was like they knew, and up they came, imploring her to go back inside. 

She couldn’t do this, she couldn’t do that… she was _beyond_ frustrated. All she wanted to do was leave her building and stroll through Central Park, go across the street to the bodega that had her favorite chips, and be able to go out for takeout without having anyone breathing down her neck.

Yet, here she was, here _he_ was. 

She had been very specific when she had accepted the protective detail. She had _specifically_ asked for Carisi to not be involved in this. She had already put in jeopardy Sherman and his family; she wasn’t about to risk the one person whom she cared about the most… not him, and certainly not his kid. She would never forgive herself if something happened to him, or worst, Fabiana.

“C—Could you not stand near the window?”

She huffed, “How else am I supposed to water my plants, _Detective_?”

Sonny sighed, shaking his head, “You’re still mad at me?” She looked over her shoulder and shook her head, “I’ll do it,” he said, extending his hand.

She dropped the watering can on her windowsill with a bang, storming past Sonny into her kitchen. She opened her fridge, pouting at the scarceness that stared back at her. She needed to leave this wretched apartment; she needed to leave it, now. She slammed the refrigerator door, scrubbing her hands over face.

“Hey, Jac, what’s wrong?”

She rolled her eyes and chose to keep silent. Lashing out at Sonny wouldn’t be helpful. He was just trying to protect her, look out for her even, but this was just torture. She couldn’t deny she was… touched by Sonny’s actions. He cared enough for her that he had been equally as furious as he had been concerned when he found out about the severed tongue. But she hadn’t wanted this. The only reason she’d agreed was because of McCoy and his threat of pulling her from the sex crimes docket. She couldn’t risk that, not in the middle of a case.

“Did Liv tell you we found out who the tongue belonged to?” Sonny continued, disregarding her lack in answer, “It was Jason’s. I know your communication with us these past few weeks has been limited, we’ve picked up other cases, and we’ve been bothering you with warrants for those, but I—I didn’t know if you were aware or not.”

Jac opened her mouth to let out a smart retort, but she bit it back, knowing that being petulant at this moment would be completely futile. Instead, she took a deep breath and nodded. She rummaged through her cupboards, she really had forgotten to stop and get groceries for the week. Of course, with all the constant shadowing happening, she barely had time to think, let alone function properly. She wasn’t one to forget things, but with the whole ‘not being allowed outside after a certain time’ it had most certainly skipped her mind.

Carisi had continued rambling on about something and she stomped out of her kitchen, stubbing her toe with the corner of the baseboard. She yelled out in pain and frustration, “What? What’s wrong?”

Carisi was at her side within seconds, his hand hovering over her folded body. She straightened, squaring her shoulders, “Nothing, Carisi. Nothing’s wrong.”

Sonny pursed his lips, “You’ve been… real bratty since I showed up. I get it, you don’t want me here—”

“That’s an understatement,” she shot quickly, receiving a pointed look from him.

“—but, it’s not fair on the team. I’m the only one that hasn’t taken a shift watching you.”

She scoffed, limping towards her couch, “I was very clear when I said that I didn’t want you here.”

“That’s not your call.”

“I don’t mean _them_ you, I mean _you_ you,” she rebutted, bringing up her leg to study her toe.

“Still not your call,” Jac looked up at him, glowering at his relaxed face, “Here, let me see.”

She clicked her tongue in distaste, “I don’t need your help, _Detective_.”

Sonny sighed, sitting besides her, “What is your problem? You’ve been nothing but petulant throughout this entire thing. It’s why I’m here, ‘cause nobody else wants to deal with your dreadful attitude.”

“So what? They just stuck you with me, Mr. Sunshine Ray?”

“Pretty much,” he shrugged.

She sighed. 

He wasn’t lying, she had been a pain in everyone’s ass, and she hated it, but she would never admit to it. She was a grown adult, the last thing she needed was someone telling her what to do and not do, “You know what’s wrong, Sonny? You _really_ want to know what’s wrong?” Sonny nodded, awaiting her answer. “I’m _sick_ and tired of being shadowed. I can’t leave my apartment. I can’t leave work. I can’t stand near my windows. I can’t even take a piss or answer a phone call without one of you breathing down my neck,” she sighed, closing her eyes, “I just… I just want to go out for a steak.”

Sonny blushed, “Well… I could take you.”

Jac husked her chuckle, thinking he was just humoring her, but when no reply came she opened her eyes, “You’re serious.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask anyways,” he awkwardly said, shrugging his shoulders.

“Sonny,” she breathed out, smiling.

His florid face deepened in color and he stood, “Let’s see what you have and I’ll cook, for being such a pest. And, when this is all over we could go out for a real meal, deal?”

Jac looked up at him, her eyes shining in admiration. She’d been nothing but a nuisance from the beginning: attempting to escape her detail, being short and dismissive, and worst, preventing the squad from doing their jobs. 

She smiled, “Deal.”


	11. Healing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We see Jac in action and we see her fearful yet determined to get justice for the Macarty siblings.

Steak was never served. 

Sonny hadn’t been nervous to show up at Jac’s apartment. 

And Jac didn’t fuss and mull over her outfits after Sonny had asked her out. 

Life had gotten in the way. Cases had taken over and they were still trying to figure out how in hell they were going to link DB to Jason’s tongue severing and the murder of the Macarty siblings. They had lost him as a witness, and though they still had the recorded statement, Defense had made a great show in Judge’s chambers arguing that it was more prejudicial than probative, especially now since Jason wanted nothing to do with the members of the one-six and especially not with Jac.

They would dwell on this loss later on, because right now Jac _really_ needed a win on a trial that she had no interest in taking to court in the first place. 

Of course, at Olivia’s insistence she had no other choice than to pursue this. Olivia had gone as far as talking to Dodds about it and the discussion that ensued afterwards had not been a pleasant one to say the least. It’d been cheap—said argument—the both of them taking shots at the other for the pure fun of it. They didn’t like it, but to stand their ground they would say what was needed in order to get their point across. They knew what they meant yet they found it extremely difficult to articulate it without jabbing at the other’s integrity.

“We’re being ridiculous,” Jac sighed, shaking her head.

Of course they were! 

They were a team. Partners. They couldn’t be doing this to each other. 

If the foundation of their relationship was based entirely on disrespect and mistrust, how could the others trust them to lead them effectively and bring justice to their survivors and victims? They needed a happy compromise, somewhere in that grey area that neither chose to see and/or visit for the sake of their ego.

“What is it that you need, Jacqueline?” Olivia asked, gripping the edge of Jac’s desk.

“Evidence proving that Schwartz was in the room when Jensen did what he did to Carlotta.”

Olivia sighed, “We can do that… _tomorrow_ at the latest.”

Jac sighed, leaning back on her chair, and watching Olivia saunter out of her office. It was moments like these where she wished she were back in Seattle, dealing with dead bodies and concrete evidence rather than guessing and second-guessing her every move.

How could she stand in open court and blow smoke and finesse her way through a conviction knowing she didn’t have as solid as a case as she wanted to have? She wasn’t drowning in debt just to peacock and bluff in court, yet that’s what it meant to work SVU. 

You would cut corners, bend the law, stretch your resources until you had something concrete and useful that you could present in a court of law. And, you had your training. You would take from Defense lawyers, apply your professor’s tactics, even draw inspiration for theatrics; anything and everything you needed to do to convince the jury that whatever scumbag was on trial did not only deserve it, but deserved to rot in their cell for the depravity they had done.

“So, let me get this straight,”—Jac scoffed and smiled—“What you’re saying, Mr. Schwartz is that according to the Bible, the Lord… _condones_ rape?”

Beverley Schwartz looked amused on the stand during Jac’s cross. He was actually entertaining the idea of Jac’s feigned ignorance, “1 Corinthians 7:3-4: _for the wife does not have authority over her own body, but the husband does_. The Bible is very clear.”

“ _Likewise the husband does not have authority over his own body, but the wife does_ ,” Jac countered with a smirk. She turned, facing the pews, “It’s funny, Mr. Schwartz how _men_ love to support their erroneous view with that passage, forgetting that the same is to be said about a man’s body when it comes to its ownership in marriage. Wasn’t that sexual expression designed by God to be an act of love within a marriage, Mr. Schwartz?” Jac waited for the man’s response, but the burn she saw behind his eyes as she turned told her otherwise. “Forced sex is _not_ love, Mr. Schwartz, it’s the opposite.”

“The Bible is cl—”

“The Bible _is_ clear, Mr. Schwartz, Colossians 3:19,” Jac finished, lowering her arms by her side.

Schwartz sat up on the witness stand, opening his mouth in protest. He tipped his chin, looking down at his hands when he deflated on his chair. He realized then that he’d been beaten at his own game. He’d been hiding behind this façade of being a ‘spiritual sexual counselor’ for troubled marriages within the Church yet the violence behind the act that he had… promoted and condoned had seemingly slipped his mind.

Jac scoffed, shaking her head, “Nothing further.”

Benson and Carisi had been sitting in the gallery, enjoying the show Jac had put on. She not only had gone after Jensen Greene, the husband of Carlotta Greene for brutally raping her, leaving her so severely injured that she had bled, but the man that Jensen claimed had given him the go ahead, Beverley Schwartz. It took little digging from the SVU squad to figure out that not only was this man a fraud; he was a predator who hid behind the word of God.

Once the Lieutenant had faced Jensen with the charges against him, he’d been quick to take a deal. Underneath it all, he was a good man, having gotten carried away when presented with the opportunity of finally bedding his wife. He’d gone overboard and Jac—considering the circumstances—had been as lenient as possible. He was young, _they_ were young, and there was no point in going after him for following the guidance of his spiritual counselor. However, she hadn’t been as lenient and understanding with Beverley. He deserved to rot, to never see the light of day, and though the Church, in her courtroom, backed him, Jac was to make sure that everyone in that room—Christian or otherwise—saw him for what he truly was.

“Ms. Cruz, you may proceed,” Judge Blake said with a flick of her hand.

Jac stood propping her hands on the prosecution’s table, letting her hair cascade forward. She bit her lip. This was it; she had to go for the kill otherwise this case was as good as done. Defense had made quite the compelling closing argument and if she didn’t deliver one equally as good, she would watch Beverley Schwartz saunter off into the moonlight without a care for what he did and the grief he had brought upon Jensen and Carlotta. Never mind the other women that had stepped up and provided their testimony to the courtroom of dissolved and failed marriages thanks to this man’s advice. Women whom had been just a little bit luckier than Carlotta, though not completely, but just a little bit.

How exactly could she tackle this? Rash? Brash? Deliberate? She only had a few more seconds before Judge Blake would call out for her again so she circled the table, pacing carefully towards the jurors box. 

She sighed, awarding them eye contact, and she smiled ruefully before turning briefly towards the gallery. Her eyes skimmed briefly over Carlotta’s and her family, over Roxanne’s and Alondra’s, and even over Sonny’s piercing blues. 

He’d been more than conflicted with this case yet he had refrained from the front-stabbing and had battled with his own faith once again when Rollins had openly stated her distaste with religion and how ‘fitting’ she found it to be for the man.

She bit her lip, it was now… or never, “‘ _Put up with it_ ’, ‘ _submit_ ’, ‘ _it’s your duty_ ’—those were the three phrases Carlotta Greene heard when she sat with her husband in the office of Beverley Schwartz. He also told her that she should be _grateful_ her husband was a great provider and in turn would make a great father, and that it was her _duty_ to _submit_ in the bedroom. It is clear from the Bible that _mutuality_ reigns in the bedroom; a husband does not have authority over his body, and neither does a wife. They belong to each other. Does this mean that a husband can force himself on his wife anytime he so desires?” she paused for effect, gauging the reaction of every juror in that courtroom. “Definitely not.”

She opened her mouth, but promptly shut it. Every word she had rehearsed and memorized the days prior to this one were all floating in her head, neatly fading and almost in bold as her more logical side appealed to her. She knew McCoy would be on her ass for having derailed this trial and seemingly made of it a nave where she was the one preaching to masses. Yet, if he knew better, he knew to expect the unexpected in court when it came to Jac. He knew she didn’t have the… aptness of Rafael when it came to courtroom theatrics, but she did have this innate capability of reading a room, of luring people in, and having them hang on her every word like SVU’s own firebrand.

She had it, and she would use it until she could no more: the gift of gab.

She took a deep breath in and raised her arms by her side, shrugging. “The defendant is very set on the passage from Corinthians, but what that passage teaches is that each spouse is to _willingly_ , _freely_ , and _lovingly_ submit to the other. There is no selfishness involved. Forcibly taking what has not been offered is wrong and plainly against what the defendant… preaches,” she turned, facing the jurors once more. She had them! She had been eloquent and effective, now, she went for the kill: persuasion, “I’m not here to take on scripture,”—she shook her head, giving a small smile—“I’m here to address, and make sure you all conclude what we should do when people, like the defendant, manipulate scripture to suit their own quiescent agendas.”

The biting tone in her tongue as she finished her closing argument sent a shiver down Sonny’s spine. He enjoyed watching her in her element and though, he was not expecting her statement to take the turn it had, he couldn’t deny but feel incredibly compelled to hope and yearn for a ‘guilty’ verdict. Judge Blake sent the jurors out for deliberation when they all stood, waiting for court to be adjourned. He exited with Olivia, silently hoping that he got to stand next to her once she exited the partition.

They stood far from the door, below the many windows that allowed for natural light to filter in when she came out, rudely being stopped by her boss. “That was… quite the show there, Jac,” McCoy mumbled.

Jac stopped, closing her eyes, and turning slowly. “Thank you! I’ll be here all week,” she tried to quip with a tight smile.

“Don’t even try it, Jacqueline. What the hell was that? Are you purposefully trying to make a mockery out of this office?”

“Jack, will all due respect—”

“Don’t give me that!” he grumbled lowly, taking a step forward. “Church and State, Jacqueline. Church and State!”

Jac clicked her tongue, pressing her fingers to her sternum, “How is that possible in this case, Jack, huh? How could I make a tangible separation when the entire case was solely based on it? I did what I had to do in order to get a conviction, isn’t _that_ my job?”

Jack furrowed his bushy brows. He understood what she was saying, and she wasn’t wrong, and maybe he would’ve handled this case in a completely different way had he not been busy with his political campaign, “You haven’t gotten that conviction yet, Jac.”

“I will,” she said with assurance.

He sighed. “For the sake of everybody in this office, _pray_ that you do,” he turned, muttering under his breath something about being a lapsed Catholic.

Jac sighed heavily, bringing her hands to cover her face. This was the last thing she needed at the moment when: “Bad scolding? Listen—”

“If you’re here to give me the third degree too, Sonny…”

Sonny held his hands up in defense, smiling his pouty smirk, “Not at all. That closing argument… what happened to the one you rehearsed?”

She sighed. “Sometimes you have to go with your gut,” she finished, giving a once-over to the Lieutenant who in turn replied with a beautiful smirk.

Benson barely had a chance to ask her anything when her subordinate and ADA quickly launched themselves in conversation, “Am I seeing you this weekend? It’s Fabi’s birthday.”

“I know,” Jac responded. “Is Gina bringing the cupcakes or have you persuaded her otherwise?”

Sonny snickered, “Sugar-free Jac, please. Last year she stayed up until two in the morning. I will drive to Central Park West just to drop her off at your front door.”

“Ha! You can barely stand when she sleeps for too long, Carisi, who exactly are you trying to fool?”

Sonny and Jac eyed each other, that smoldering look in each of their eyes. How could this be consider flirting when the conversation was as innocent as they came yet Sonny’s cheeks hadn’t seem to get the memo and were quickly reaching that rosy look Jac loved seeing them in. 

They smiled at each other, Jac soon wavering at the hue of blue his eyes had reached. The tension was there. It definitely was palpable yet there was so much either of them could do in such a public setting. Even though nothing had happened, Olivia knew exactly what these types of looks were capable of starting: rumors.

How many times had she sat in Cragen’s office after the never-ending rumor of her Elliot circled the precinct, OnePP, and later on the DA’s Office? 

Alex and her—though that one had been true, and they had disclosed, thankfully, before anything damaging could’ve happened, she still knew how… _pillaging_ that had felt. Her and Casey—fleeting, sporadic, and fun—their interactions were frequent since they had been friends first and foremost. And then, Rollins, the one that had stolen her heart, and though she had tried time and time again to tamper it down she could see in them what she saw in Rollins’ eyes then. 

What was unraveling before her eyes was nothing other than romance. Pure, unadulterated romance… And, she loved that for him. He had had a difficult time after Rafael left and to see him slowly have that pep in his step brought great comfort to her heart.

“I have some things wrap up in the office. I’ll have Carmen call or text when the jury’s back,” Jac said over her shoulder, quickly disappearing through the crowd.

Sonny stood next to Olivia, his arms dangling by his sides as his lips pursed. He watched her disappear with a glint in his eyes. He was sure of this one. He had to be. Olivia cleared her throat, starting her step, “So, uh, you and Jac?”

Sonny whipped his head quickly, feeling the familiar heat creep up his neck and circle his ears, “No, no, Oli—Lieutenant, it’s not what you think.”

Olivia bit the tip of her tongue and smiled. “What _am I_ thinking, Carisi?” she narrowed her eyes at him.

It dawned on him that he had ousted his growing sentiments for the woman rather than Olivia figuring it out on her own, but if Sonny knew anything about something, if Olivia was even suggesting something to him, she _knew_. He smiled at the ground, hiding his face as he kept up with Olivia’s pace, “Nothing, nothing.”

* * *

“Car—” she hummed, glancing up to notice the woman was not at her desk. Nothing too out of the ordinary since she had been busy the better part of the morning and afternoon with court.

Jac shrugged, pushing her door open. 

Everyone had griped at her for her decision of placing her desk “behind” the door yet she preferred it that way. She liked staring off onto the outside through the windows above her couch, she enjoyed watching her maranta plant dance with the sunlight, and most importantly, she _loved_ the sense of privacy she had when people would approach Carmen’s desk and couldn’t see her through the office windows. 

But today, she had second-guessed that decision. 

Stepping into her office, she saw him, perched behind her desk, legs propped on top of several files she had on her desk, and he smiled.

He couldn’t have looked more than just a kid yet there was something in his eyes that betrayed the smug smile plastered on his lips, “You know sweetheart, gotta give it to you. Ever since we delivered that… present to your doorman, you’ve been tough to follow.”

Jac schooled her expressions, the last thing she needed was for him to utilize her weakness against her, “My detectives know how to do their job.”

He scoffed, lowering his legs, and rummaging through the files on her desk. “Way too fucking good,” he shook his head. “Since when does the panty police care so much, huh?”

Jac ran her tongue through her bottom lip in disgust. “Panty police?” the words like bile on her lips.

He snickered and shook his head, “Relax, honey, just fucking with you.”

She took a deep breath, tossing her attaché atop the table behind her. “What can I do for you?” she moved quickly, unbuttoning her blazer.

“Didn’t realize it was _that_ kind of party…” he said with a frightening undertone that she tried best to ignore. The fierce glare she sent his way made him chuckle in amusement. “Fine,” he stood, adjusting his jacket, and smacking his teeth. “Lay off your pity party. What’s done is done and DB… not happy,” he waggled his finger in the air.

Jac shuddered; having had an idea what kind of visit this was, yet finding no comfort in her clairvoyance, “You know I can’t do that.”

He sighed, approaching Jac slowly. “Honey, I thought you were smarter than this,” he said coming to a stop in front of her. He looked down on her, smirking as he grunted. He licked and bit his bottom lip, bringing his fingers to her chin. “I like ‘em feisty, mami,” he said just as Jac snapped her face away from the grasp of the man. He quickly fisted her hair in his left hand just as his right one pinched her cheeks, “Listen to me, lay it off or next time it won’t be a tongue being delivered.”

Jac breathed harshly, whimpering as she felt his fingers dig into her skin, pressing it harshly against her teeth. He shook her face, opening his eyes. “Got it,” she mumbled as best as she could and blowing out air through her nose when he finally released her.

He chuckled, amused with his behavior and her response when he circled behind her, quickly gripping her waist, and driving her body into his. “Such a pity… such a waste,” he mused, smacking her ass cheek and shoving her forward.

He chortled; walking away, leaving Jac a whimpering, perturbed mess. 

She waited until the door clicked behind him and she trailed his form through the mini blinds. It wasn’t until she knew for sure he had gone, that she allowed herself to stumble towards her desk, leaning her bottom against it. She huffed, bringing her hand over her galloping heart. 

What was she thinking, challenging him like that? She had the power—if so she chose—to call this investigation off. She knew they were grasping at straws. Hanging on to this investigation by the skin of their teeth and the last thing they needed was for _her_ to turn up with a severed tongue, or worse, dead.

She whimpered at the thought. 

There was no way she could be this stubbornly stupid, yet when she moved her arm back down, she felt something graze her elbow. She jumped; startled beyond measure at whatever foreign object had touched her skin. She looked down at the desk, scanning her eyes frantically over the spot she had occupied previously in search of whatever had touched her skin, but found nothing in return.

“You have to get a hold of yourself, Jacqueline. You still have to return to court,” she breathed out, closing her eyes in tandem. 

She slowly brought down her hand from her chest and felt it again, this time, the feeling continued until it grazed her calf and landed by her shoe. She sucked in a shaky breath, hoping for the best, but fearing for the worst as she looked down. 

A piece of paper.

She squatted, picking up the folded sheet and walking back to her desk. Whoever that was, was in clear need of help… and fearful for his life. The note and shaky handwriting spoke for itself. A name. An address. A time. A cry for help. 

She needn’t anything else to be there, but as she continued to read, two words damn near knocked her back: ‘ _NO COPS!_ ’

She sighed, moving her fingers to fold the paper close on its crease. 

How could she be sure it was going to be him and only him? 

Would she be able to keep this a secret from everyone else, especially Carisi? 

She placed her elbows on her desk, scrubbing her hands over her face, when _exactly_ had her life turned into a survival action-packed movie?

She was still as resilient as ever. Determined to deliver peace and justice to Ginny and Raymond Macarty. 

Nothing would stop her. 

Nothing would get in her way. 

She wouldn’t allow it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise I will give you Sonny/Jac fluff in the next chapter, bear with me. I promise.


End file.
